Love 2-0
by cupcakeriot
Summary: [Love 2.0] What happens when your online life intersects with your real life?
1. 404 error web page not found

**[404 error_web page not found]**

404 Error

Web Page Not Found

In web browsing, a 404 error message is the end of the road. It's the message that tells you there is a glitch, that something has gone wrong, that you need to backspace and reassess. It's the first obvious sign of a malfunction. _Go back. Rethink. Change it, fix it, try something else_.

But here's the thing that so many forget:

Life is an endless series of 404 error messages - and it's what we do with those dead ends that count.

_Reload the page. Try again_.

There is a hidden beauty to a 404 error. It gives you a chance to reload. It gives you a chance to find a new start.

A start is all it takes to launch a journey, which begs the question:

**What happens when your online life intersects with your real life?**

Here's a hint to the answer: You won't be encountering another 404 error any time soon.

_Load the page. Reboot. Restart. _

This is how it starts -

* * *

**A/N: New story, new start, new romance. Take this author note for what it is - a fair warning that this story is going to be a stylistic experiment. The chapters will be an inconsistent length, some will be total interludes, and there will be something of a slow burn.  
**

**This is going to be a Social Media AU with college-aged characters and an exploration of various methods of online communication. You can even think of it being a social commentary on the socialization of Millennials and Gen Zs.**

**This story is also a homage to one of my favorite shows, a Chinese drama called _Love 020_. You don't need to have watched the show, just know that I've drawn a lot of inspiration from it with a few Western tweaks. I'm certainly changing up some things, but the overall story will be fluffy. If you have a chance, the show is currently on Netflix and worth your time. **

**Alright. That's all I really have to say. I'll probably be providing a key for the character handles as they are introduced, but everything should be clear from context. **

**Here we go.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**


	2. chapter 1

**[chapter_1]**

Fingers fly over the keyboard, a rapid _tap-tap-tapping_ corresponding with the pixilated character on the screen. A click of the mouse as it is dragged across a wide, rectangular blush pink mouse pad, the right combination of keys, and another attack is thwarted. The opponent in the virtual world stumbles, hardly deterred as it swings a great spiked club in its three-fingered hand.

Scroll and drag the mouse. Dodge. Evade. Exhale slowly.

》**Swansong**: this thing is annoying

《 **Relentless**: game specs said it would be

》**Swansong**: yeah, but I didn't think it would be this annoying

On cue, the bloated monster on the screen makes another attack. A series of taps across the keyboard paves a path for a lithe, red-clothed figure to leap and dance across the screen. The figure spins, casts an orange spell array to slow her opponent, and quickly retreats to higher ground, hovering near a golden character with a crossbow. The golden character shoots off a series of bolts, and they both watch as red damage points _tick-tick-tick_ off the monster, who roars in certain fury.

《 **Relentless**: there you go again underestimating the game

《 **Relentless**: I don't want to say I told you so but I told you so

》**Swansong**: what is it they say?

》**Swansong**: oh right, even a clock is right twice a day

《 **Relentless**: ouch that almost hurt

》**Swansong**: do you have any ideas on how to beat this thing or am I going to be dodging forever?

《 **Relentless**: don't be so impatient

《 **Relentless**: I have a few ideas

《 **Relentless**: shapeshift and follow my lead

The gargantuan monster lumbering across the screen of the virtual world destroys the main thoroughfare bridge of the port town they are trying to save. This monster is the final boss at the end of a long quest, which is exactly why it's so challenging; they cannot let the port town be destroyed or they automatically fail.

As if. Failure is not an option here. Failure means going back to the beginning of the quest. No way that's happening.

In the virtual world, Swansong, a Druid class Night Elf, trades her red armor for the slinking grace of her cat form, leaping right in front of the monster to act as the perfect decoy. Swansong moves smartly around the monster, goading it into following her further from the town until it is caught between her and a body of nearby water. Meanwhile, her golden-armored partner slips around the back of the monster, trading crossbow for sword and positioning himself for attack.

"Here we go," a girl says just under her breath, her focus intent on the flat span of her laptop screen. She knows how this play works - it is a smoke and mirrors ploy that has felled more difficult quest bosses before and would surely do the same now. The fingers on her left hand tap in a key combination and another orange array surrounds the tusked monster. "Your turn."

Relentless leaps onto the back of the monster in a flurry of gold, slashing and hacking away bloodpoints. At the same time, Swansong shifts back into a Night Elf and casts a series of astral spells, bathing the screen in blues and greens. Now that they have the monster cornered, it's easy to coordinate attacks to take the monster down. Spell, dodge; cast, retreat; slash, counterpoint. When the monster crumbles to ash, their win is awarded by a prize of rare material that can be used to forge special weapons. Rare material is a good enough prize but this particular material - yin iron - has been popping up more often lately. It's a little underwhelming, if she's being honest.

Even still, her game partner doesn't seem to share the same opinion.

《 **Relentless**: for you

》**Swansong**: I'll pass this time, I have enough rare material

》**Swansong**: plus you're the one who wanted to craft a new bow

《 **Relentless**: I want you to have it

《 **Relentless**: anything I need I can just buy direct

《 **Relentless**: take it

》**Swansong**: really I'm good

《 **Relentless**: if I can't convince you now I'll just save it for you to use later

《 **Relentless**: as in-game spouses everything that is mine is yours anyway

The girl on the other side of the screen sighs in exasperation, a pinch to her lips as she shifts in her chair. She hesitates in replying to Relentless' last message on their private game chat, weighing how she should proceed.

Relentless, a Human class Hunter, has been her partner for three months. He is a skilled player, ranked within the top twenty of gamers on their server, and she likes him well enough. Respects his skills, admires his tenacity. She is ranked higher than him, but her playing style is less aggressive than his, more control and less flash that works in good counterpoint to his preferred techniques. Relentless is aptly named in more ways than one. He does not quit even when the odds are stacked against him. He does not quit when it is smarter to retreat or when it is more tactically efficient to try a different method. He does not stop when he should.

《 **Relentless**: speaking of sharing things

_Oh boy_, the girl thinks with some dread. _Here we go_.

《 **Relentless**: there's a contest on the game forum

》**Swansong**: what kind of contest?

《 **Relentless**: beauty contest for gamer girls

The girl wrinkles her nose. What a stupid contest. Is there a similar contest for gamer boys? Probably not, because _patriarchy_. Ugh. For some asinine reason, gaming companies still seem to believe that female players are unicorns or something, and so every once in a while contests like these pop up to reinforce this extremely misguided belief. If only gaming executives knew the only girls participating in those contests are casual gamers! Maybe if they handed out some _real_ prizes, serious gamer girls would actually participate.

Not her, of course. But maybe _other_ serious gamer girls. Ones who might actually care about beauty contests, or willingly participate in them. Emphasis on _willingly_, especially in her case.

_Never again,_ she vows. _Winning that last one - it's caused so many problems and so much annoyance!_

**》Swansong:** right I saw that one on the forum

**》 Swansong**: lame prize

**《 Relentless**: no chance of you entering huh

**《 Relentless**: what a shame

**》Swansong**: guess so

**《 Relentless**: and here I thought this was finally my chance to see what you look like

**《 Relentless**: maybe next time

**《 Relentless**: or we could meet up?

_Stop asking_, she wants to say. _Learn to know when to quit._

But telling him that is a quick way to lose a gaming partnership. A certain amount of tact is required for these things - unfortunately, that's simply what it means to be female most days. No matter how much she wishes the message would get through his thick skull, she needs to maintain a partnership that has helped her complete several challenging quests over the past few months. A solid partnership between two players is worth more than being part of a guild - every gamer worth their salt knows this. And for all of Relentless' faults, he is a reliable partner that she isn't willing to give up just yet. There is much more they can accomplish together.

Doesn't mean that this interaction isn't frustrating, though.

Case in point, this is the third time in as many weeks that he has been overtly flirtatious - and she is running out of polite ways to say no. Men, she thinks with some derision, knowing that their partnership is growing tenuous now that Relentless is being this way. Subtly, stubbornly pushy, with an attitude that he is entitled to knowing her outside of the game now that they have been partners for so many weeks.

Needless to say, Bella Swan does not appreciate this in the slightest. Thinking quickly, she taps out a new response.

**》Swansong**: I'm really busy actually, midterms are coming up

**《 Relentless:** that's right you're in college

**《 Relentless**: I graduated a few years ago so I know what it's like

**《 Relentless**: how about a picture then so I can know the face of my partner?

_Unbelievable._

By some miracle, before Bella has to come up with a non-hostile way to say why she would not be sending a virtual stranger a picture of herself, the power in her dorm flickers off - and with it, everything in the room, including her laptop, plunges into relative darkness.

Bella looks at the black screen for a minute, internalizing the brief moment of relief, and then thinks, _I'll just tell him the internet booted me off_. A totally plausible excuse and not that far off from the truth. Things happen. That's technology.

Although - hm. Bella frowns at the dark screen of her laptop. Odd. The power going out shouldn't have also shorted her laptop - unless…

_Not again_!

"Alice!"

"Bella! You're here!" Alice yelps from the other room, tone tingeing on frantic. "Help me!"

Bella pushes away from her desk and scurries into the room Alice shares with Rose. "What did you do?" she asks as she enters the shadowy space. The answer, once she can glean Alice's shape on the floor illuminated by the muted light of the window covered in gauzy blue curtains, is obvious. Bella sighs and crouches down, careful not to step on any of the fabric spread around the sewing machine Alice spent months saving up for - there is a traumatizing amount of polka dots in neon shades spread this way and that. "This again? I thought we agreed you would unplug everything else in the dorm before using this thing."

Alice sniffles pathetically at Bella's pointed rebuke. She twiddles her thumbs together, thimble and sewing kit forgotten on her lap. "I forgot. There was this picture of this gorgeous peplum top on Pinterest and I _knew_ I could do it better - but I guess I got ahead of myself and, well…"

One look at her friend's wet eyes and Bella's mild irritation vanishes. Alice sometimes reminds her of a small woodland animal, small and soft and guileless so much of the time, the kind of girl the world will chew up and spit out. She feels a little protective of her friend. Being somewhat unflappable herself, Bella feels a keen sense of duty to shelter someone who is decidedly more sensitive. She blames her mother for this; Alice Brandon and Renee Higginbotham share striking similarities.

"Alright, don't cry about it. It's not a big deal. I can fix it, just let me go get my tools," Bella says decisively.

Alice beams at her.

Although their residence hall has been renovated at least three times in the last century, the fact of the matter is that some circuits are prone to being overwhelmed, especially in the face of electricity-sucking beasts like Alice's sewing machine. Fixing a fried circuit is old hat for Bella. She's had plenty of experience fixing up the circuit breaker at her dad's house in Forks, and God knows her mom can't tell an on switch from an off switch. Patching up the circuit in their dorm is something she can do in under ten minutes, standing on a chair while Alice hands her the right tools. Bella finishes pressing the electrical tape, tucks the copper wires back into their appropriate places, and then flips the switch.

Alice claps her hands together happily when their dorm is flooded with light again. Her face is bright and open, all high cheekbones and round cheeks and little snub nose. "You're so handy to have around," she gushes, eyes dancing.

After she finishes replacing the screws to secure the cover of the circuit breaker to the wall, Bella steps carefully off the chair and begins sorting her miniature toolbox out. Everything has an appropriate place and reordering it right away will save her a headache the next time she needs her tools. "Oh yeah, I'm a regular Miss Fix It," she says wryly.

Alice, evidently having no capacity at all to detect sarcasm, only nods with a wide smile. How can Bella stay irritated with a face so innocent? They separate, each leaving the common area to go back to their rooms, to go back to what they were doing before the hubbub.

Bella seats herself at her desk and presses the button to start her laptop.

Nothing. Black screen.

She tries again. A third time. Huffs and checks the power plug. No, that's good. The only reason why the laptop would still be off is if…Ah.

Bella closes the laptop, flips it bottom side up, and starts the long process of unscrewing the backing to comb through all of the circuits and chips. This too is something she knows well, having been fixing her own computer since high school. She uses a small penlight and computer tweezers, checking the motherboard for cracks, searching for any fried wires from the power surge and - yep. There it is.

Bella takes a closer look. The damage seems compounded. It isn't just the circuit of the graphics chip that is fried, but the chip itself has a hairline crack running through it - which is odd, considering Bella treats all of her electronics like _glass_. She might have a tendency toward clumsiness in every other aspect of her life, but when it comes to her devices, Bella has all the grace and poise in the world. Which means that this…_injury_ to her laptop is not her fault.

Bella sits back, remembers the last person to borrow her laptop, and inhales deeply. The irritation returns in a hot flush as she stands up and storms back through the common room. _"Alice!_"

As it turns out, Bella _can_ be angry at Alice.

* * *

Alice Bee **ʘaliceseesyou  
**Escaping near death today! Thank God computer repair shops are a thing!

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**I said I wasn't going to kill you **ʘ****aliceseesyou **#murderisprobablybad

Alice Bee **ʘ****aliceseesyou  
**Of course not, my most forgiving friend! **ʘ****thelittlecygnet **is a gentle soul! #friendsforever

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**That said, did a little light maiming ever really hurt anyone **ʘ****aliceseesyou**? :)

Alice Bee **ʘ****aliceseesyou  
**D: **ʘ****thelittlecygnet**

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
****ʘ****aliceseesyou ****ʘ****thelittlecygnet **Hey losers, this isn't how subtweeting works

* * *

"I really didn't mean to drop it!" Alice whines, hands clasped to her chest, a beseeching look in her eye as Bella herds her to the door. "And I only dropped it a _little_ bit!" She pinches her forefinger and thumb together to demonstrate.

Bella is not swayed in the slightest. Not this time. Her computer is _precious_ and there is a crime that must have justice. Alice's wheedling will fall on deaf ears today.

Bella frog marches Alice out of their dorm, a padded ivory laptop bag slung over her shoulder and her bus pass already in hand. "Doesn't matter how little you dropped it, you'll be paying for all of it," she says darkly, locking her elbow around Alice's to drag her down the hall.

She ignores the startled looks of others in their residence hall - it's college, after all, and by now they should all be used to seeing strange scenes. Just last week she saw a boy streaking through this very hallway dressed only in a bowtie and a Chemistry textbook. She hadn't even blinked twice.

"But I'm poor!" Alice protests, a final overture.

Bella bares her teeth in a facsimile of a grin and watches Alice pout in response. "So am I!"

It is, all things considered, not shaping up to be the _best_ Saturday. First Relentless being relentless, and now her laptop needs a repair stat. She hadn't been lying about midterms coming up. Bella has no less than three mid-term projects on her hard drive, two of which are due on Tuesday. _And_ her game guild is having a meeting on tomorrow, which she doesn't want to miss. Putting aside that her job is also inexorably reliant on a working laptop, Bella has _commitments. _

_Needs to be fixed right away_, she thinks, nodding to herself.

Alice continues to whine, albeit halfheartedly as Bella make a bee-line to the nearest bus stop. Luckily, living on a college campus means that public transport is never more than a stone's throw away. Even if Stanford has an expansive campus full of old buildings, lush courtyards, and more libraries than is reasonable, the campus proper is separated into two ends. Her dorm residency, Roble Hall, is located on the Westside campus and is near enough to a main road that reaching the nearest bus stop is only a matter of walking fast for ten minutes.

Alice is nearly out of breath by the time they stop to wait for the next bus. She sits down on the bench beneath the bus stop pavilion with a delicate groan. "I need to work out more."

Bella pulls out her phone to check the bus schedule. They're a little early, but the bus should be here any minute. She casts a sidelong glance at her dorm mate. "Then you should stop begging me to scan your track card," she says blandly.

Alice makes a face. "I don't _like _running," she says. "Besides, since you're already scanning your card for your credits, it only makes sense that you scan mine too."

"I've never met a lazier person in my life," Bella muses. "It's a miracle you actually turn in your homework, isn't it?"

Alice sticks her tongue out, blowing an impish raspberry that has Bella rolling her eyes in response.

* * *

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**Some people don't know how to use this bird app and it shows

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**Nice **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis**

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**Just showing **ʘ****thelittlecygnet** how sub tweeting works

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
****ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis** Wow too bad my best friend loves pudding guess I'll just have to eat her stash send tweet

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
****ʘ****thelittlecygnet** DONT YOU DARE #donttouchmypudding

Ty-Liar ʘnumber1rosefan  
Hey **ʘ****byanyothername** aren't these your roommates?

Rose Hale **ʘ****byanyothername  
**ʘnumber1rosefan no I dont know them

* * *

The spring sun is warm when they hop off the bus. Arm in arm, Bella and Alice slip through the dense crowd of the shopping center. While Alice's eyes flit around, drawn to the clothes people wear and the displays in shop windows, Bella has a single-minded focus. She is here for one reason - the computer repair shop.

The shop itself is smaller, run by a middle-aged man who populates half his shop with overpriced refurbished replacement parts. Ordinarily Bella wouldn't risk buying a part here but needs must. She's desperate enough to buy a bandaid for a hemorrhage, and more than that, she isn't going to shy away from haggling for a better price.

Inside the shop, Alice trails behind her, hands folded behind her back after Bella sternly tells her to _not touch anything_. Alice heeds her words, perhaps cowed by the prices on the walls. She watches as Bella digs through the shop for the right graphics chip. Bella is busy shrewdly comparing two slim packages, trying to determine which has been repackaged and which is newest, and so she does not notice that someone else has entered the shop until Alice makes a strangled _meeping_ noise behind her.

Bella briefly glances up, sees that Alice is gaping at the opposite side of the shop, and then returns to task. "What is it?" she asks distractedly. "Cute boy?"

"It's _Tanya Denali_!" Alice hisses with glee. "Oh my _God_, what is she doing here? Isn't she a Communications major? Do they even _use_ computers?"

Bella's tone is flat, a perfect match to her blank expression. "Who?"

Alice sputters quietly, tugging on the strap of Bella's computer bag. "Who? _Who_? She's - she's _Tanya_ _Denali_! How do you not know who she is?"

Bella lifts her head. "Am I…supposed to know who she is?"

"She's the most famous girl on campus right now," Alice says seriously, as if this is something that actually matters. She lowers her voice, surreptitiously watching Tanya's progress through the shop. "Tanya Denali has been crowned Campus Beauty two years in a row - until _you_ took the title from her this year, that is. But she's still _Tanya Denali_!"

Bella wrinkles her nose. "Stupid contest," she mutters.

"God, she's so pretty. How is she even real?" Alice wonders.

"Maybe she isn't. Maybe you're imagining her."

Alice ignores her, riveted on potential gossip like a bloodhound. "Look, look. She's here with her cousin, Irina. What are they looking at?"

At this, Bella actually peers over, seeing a strawberry blonde with curly hair talking to the semi-balding shop owner with wide, earnest blue eyes. "RAM sticks for memory storage," Bella answers Alice, swiftly losing interest. She looks back at the two packages in her hands, chooses the best one, and then makes her way to the check-out counter with Alice on her heels.

Waiting for the shop owner, Bella cannot help but overhear the conversation. It's obvious to Bella that Tanya has no knowledge about computers or even what a stick of RAM is used for, which makes her wonder what she's doing in a computer repair shop in the first place. Maybe a gift for someone? Doesn't matter, really, except that Bella can also hear the shop owner making a hard sell that someone ignorant about computers won't recognize as unfair.

Bella clicks her tongue, taps her fingernail against the counter. _What a cheap trick_, she thinks.

"Should we help them?" Alice whispers, having picked up on Bella's opinion about the sale happening on the other side of the shop.

Bella sighs. She was raised by a small town cop and has an abiding conscious that's always telling her to be a good Samaritan. If she can help, she should help. If she sees something fishy, she should speak up. Bella Swan is her father's daughter, and that means she is stepping away from the counter before she can think better of it and speaking before she can stop herself. "This RAM stick is refurbished," she says, mostly to the much-lauded Tanya Denali after running her eye over the package in a French manicured hand. "The gold is peeling, so it's not even going to last you a month. He's charging twice what he should."

Tanya looks at her in round-eyed surprise, then turns to the shop owner. "Oh! Is that true?"

The shop owner narrows his eyes at Bella and shrugs noncommittally, silent but just as good as admitting his guilt.

Tanya catches her cousin's eye in askance, and Irina is quick to take control of the situation. Strangely, she casts Bella a cold stare with a haughty lift of her nose. "So what if he's charging a little extra?" Irina reaches for her purse, pulling out a designer brand wallet. "This is a small business and he deserves to make a little money, right? We can pay any price."

_That isn't the point_, Bella thinks, sharing a look of disbelief with Alice at the unexpectedly hostile response from Irina Denali. That disbelief remains as Tanya purchases a faulty RAM stick, as Irina shoots her another frosty glare, as they vacate the shop without so much as a by-your-leave.

Wow. Just wow.

Alice frowns at the whole scene, seemingly equally as confused as Bella. "What did we do to Irina Denali? Geez."

Bella only shakes her head. Irina Denali's rich girl routine is the least of her worries right now. She puts it out of her mind.

Perturbed by the shop owner's attitude, Bella decides against leaving her laptop to be repaired at the shop. She buys the graphics chip instead and resigns herself to making the switch herself. It isn't as if she isn't _capable_ of making the repair, but it would have been easier to use the shop. But…on the other hand, does she _really_ trust anyone else with her laptop? No. Not really.

_It's better this way_, she determines. _Especially after that little scene earlier. _

It isn't until they are on the bus back to campus that Alice snaps her fingers, expression finally lighting as she comes to some sort of realization. "I know!"

Bella looks at her warily. "What do you know?"

"Irina was so stone-cold because you stole her cousin's crown!" Alice says triumphantly. "It makes so much sense, especially since Irina has been runner-up. You winning pushed her down to _third_ and they're juniors so it must sting! Makes perfect sense now!"

Bella sincerely disagrees, because nothing about that seems like a sensible reason to spontaneously form a grudge. And yet, Alice is probably right - she has a tendency to be right about these kinds of things.

Bella despairs internally. This really is a bad day. Ugh.

* * *

**A/N: It is standard in most PC RPG (role playing games) to be able to have both public chats and private chats between players; players can also be part of guilds, or groups of players who complete quests together; in some RPGs you can have the option of "marrying" another player. The class and race of each game character in this story is based on World of Warcraft, which is the only game I have any remote knowledge of.**

Handles:

Swansong is Bella Swan

Relentless is _yet to be revealed_

thelittlecygnet is Bella Swan

aliceseesyou is Alice Brandon

ClearlyFilmingThis is _yet to be revealed, although you could probably guess_

byanyothername is Rose Hale

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	3. swan's surprise: a short film

**[YouTube Video]**

Swan's Surprise: A Short Film

**ClarityIsClear**

340k Views / Posted 7 months ago

(The camera flickers on to a lopsided image of a grey-shadowed room, the only light source being a parting between two black-out curtains, just shaky enough to indicate that the camera operator is moving around. There is a faint _click_ and yellow-orange light floods the room, the edge of the screen only _just_ showing an Edison-bulb lamp.

The camera shakes again, spinning away from the lamp and the window, and a face enters the screen, too close and blurry. There is a sound of air being sucked between teeth, a beep of the camera, and then the image zooms out. The face clarifies into the visage of an attractive bronze-skinned girl with high cheekbones, dark almond-shaped eyes glittering in some kind of excitement, and inky black hair piled high on her hair, messy and in danger of falling from the pencil-held bun she has made.

There is a pillow crease on her cheek, denoting that she has probably just woken up. The girl is holding up her phone, the screen gleaming white and pixilated on the camera, its contents incomprehensible.

"Hey, guys! Leah Clearwater here, wishing you all a very mirthful morning," she whispers loudly into the camera, addressing whoever is watching on the other side. She waves the phone around, the camera shaking in her grasp. She leans toward the camera, her tone dropping conspiratorially. "I know I said I was going to wait to post another video until we were all settled back in the dorm, but I just woke up to some great news that I _just can't wait to share_! Want to know what it is? _Well_, you'll have to wait - because this is a reaction video. I know how much you guys love watching our favorite documentary subject react to things, and I have to say, I think this reaction will be _iconic_. Ready? Okay. Let's go wake her up."

The camera pans around again as Leah adjusts her grip. As she does, the camera shows the unmistakable view of a room that is being settled into. There are open boxes and containers, a mess of clothes spilling out of a suitcase abandoned by a partially opened closet door. The grey-patterned rug on the floor is askew, the floor itself cluttered with shoes and what looks like the aftermath of an argument with a bookshelf.

Leah steps forward, moving across the room to the other bed. "Bella," she sing-songs, and the camera shows her hand reaching out to prod at a lump hidden beneath a white comforter patterned with cartoon caricatures of sloths hanging from branches and munching on leaves. "Come on, wake up sleep talker. Time to greet the day!"

Leah nudges Bella's sleeping form and Bella groans, burrowing deeper into the duvet. A nearly unintelligible protest can be heard, something that sounds like a drawn out _no_.

"I'll sit on you if you don't wake up," Leah threatens playfully.

Bella is not moved.

"I'll steal your meal card and you'll have to starve until next semester," Leah threatens again.

Bella sits up like a shot has just gone off. Bleary eyed and flushed with sleep high in her freckled cheeks, Bella's dark hair falls around her shoulders messily, partially obscuring a thin plum sweatshirt reading _This Is Me Studying_ in vibrant yellow. "Don't touch my meal card," Bella mumbles. "I haven't even used it yet."

"Okay, okay, I won't touch it," Leah agrees easily. Although her face cannot be seen, the humor in her voice is still obvious. She's probably trying to muffle a poorly-hidden smile.

Bella looks around, face twisted in confusion. "Is it morning?"

"Uh huh."

"_Why_?"

Leah snorts. "God, you're so useless when you wake up," she mutters in amusement. Something about the whole interaction feels familiar - there is a sisterhood between the girls that cannot be faked. These are two people who have known each other their whole lives.

Bella hums in what is possibly agreement. She looks like she is falling back asleep while sitting up, listing to the side with her head bent forward.

She might have succeeded had Leah not suddenly shouted, "Congratulations!"

Bella's eyes snap open, and in her new alertness she seems to finally grasp Leah's mood, because her expression suddenly turns weary. Her sleepy olive green eyes dart between the camera and Leah's face behind the camera. "Oh, God. What is it?"

"You're a winner!" Leah announces brightly. "Time to collect your trophy, and your blue ribbon, _and_ your gold star! You won them all! Good job, champ!"

Bella frowns at the camera. "What are you even talking about?"

"The contest! You won first!"

"Contest? What contest?" Bella's brows knit together, head tilted as she stares up at Leah. Abruptly, her eyes widen and she shifts, scrambling out of her comforter and kneeling on the bed, yellow sleep shorts wrinkled and riding up modestly on her thighs. She shakes her head rapidly in denial. "No!"

"Oh, yes," Leah says with a dark sort of glee. Until now, her entire disposition has been sunny - but as of this moment, it becomes obvious that she is relishing in her friend's apparent horror at her so-called congratulatory news.

"Tell me your kidding," Bella pleads, tone beseeching.

"I am…not kidding. Here look," Leah says, and the camera shows her passing her camera to Bella, who grasps at it and quickly inputs the passcode.

"What the hell?" Bella whines pathetically. She scrolls down the webpage on Leah's phone and Leah shifts the camera so that it shows a flash pictures followed by polls. The top of the page fuzzily reads Cardinal Trees, bracketed on either side by artsy cardinal red trees.

Off-camera there is a distant shuffling sound that becomes louder, followed by a glacial female voice. "What's all this racket about? Its morning, the time for _quiet_."

The camera pans around and another girl enters the frame. This girl is a statuesque beauty with sharp, upward-tilted blue eyes, a beauty mark on her chin, and a tumble of sun-bleached blonde hair to match the healthy California tan on her skin. She wears a red cotton robe over an over-sized Stanford jersey that hems at her mid-thigh. Although clearly just waking up, she is much more put-together than both Leah and Bella, the kind of girl who can genuinely post #wokeuplikethis and #nofilter without any fuss.

From behind the camera, Leah greets the newcomer with fresh mirth. "Good morning, Rose! Glad you could join us - I'm just imparting some good news."

Behind Rose emerges another figure. This one is shorter and slighter, a round face with elfin features and short, dark hair pushed off her forehead with a green silk sleeping mask that strongly resembles Elphaba from _Wicked_. This girl already looks perky, a happy sort of charming smile spreading across her face as she side-steps Rose to fully enter the bedroom.

"Is this about the Cardinal Tree's beauty contest? Isn't it great? I found out this morning too!" the girl chirps, paying no mind to the camera that follows after her as she bounces onto Bella's bed, pillowing her head on the other girl's shoulder so that they are both looking at the phone screen.

Bella shoots her a _look_. "Don't talk about it like it's an official thing, because it's not," she admonishes, dropping the phone onto her lap with a huff.

From behind the camera comes Leah's voice again. "Unofficial, official, what does it matter? You still won."

Bella gestures wildly, then folds her arms over her chest. The girl leaning on her shoulder, Alice, is dislodged, but merely slings an arm over Bella's shoulder in comfort. "It's a popularity poll run by a glorified campus blog," Bella says. "In fact its not even a _campus_ blog! It's not affiliated with the school at all!"

Rose slinks into the frame, leaning back on a pine bookshelf that boasts a single succulent and empty shelves waiting to be filled. "She has a point," Rose opines. "Cardinal Trees is basically a collegiate tabloid. Stanford doesn't claim it, even if Stanford students run it and use it. No funding, no legal affiliation."

Bella nods quickly. "See!"

"I do see," Leah agrees placidly. "I see that you won!"

Bella's expression crumbles, a frustrated flush blooming on her cheeks. "It's troublesome! I've only just stopped being bothered from last year's results," she complains. "Now it's all going to start _again_."

The camera view shifts again, spun around to face Leah again. Her expression is serious, as is her tone, but her eyes dance. "Worth mentioning, of course, is the fact that our lovely Bella won third last year, only a few points shy of runner-up."

Off-camera comes a peppy agreement. "Yeah, that's right! It was actually pretty close!"

The camera faces outward again, taking in the three girls crowed into one corner of a dorm room. Leah fiddles with the zoom, zeroing in on the growing disbelief coloring Bella's expression while the conversation moves around her.

"There was some controversy last year," Rose recalls. Her expression is thoughtful as she continues. "People thought Bella should have won since her photo was candid, while the winner's picture was obviously professionally done. Didn't seem very fair, but the contest had already been decided."

"I remember that!" Alice gasps. "It was kind of a big deal!"

Bella huffs. "I'll tell you what the controversy is with these silly contests - it's the conspiracy of _who is nominating me for these ridiculous things in the first place._" The last part is a pointed comment obviously directed at Leah.

Behind the camera, Leah says mildly, "That sounds accusatory."

"It _is _accusatory, Clearwater!"

Rose snorts; Alice giggles behind her hand.

"I told you before that it wasn't me," Leah says innocently. "I know I love to torment you, but even I have to draw a line somewhere."

"She says as she's filming me with poorly concealed glee while I seethe about this contest," Bella deadpans.

Rose looks at Leah with her lips pressed together to mute her smile. "It does seem pretty suspicious."

"Your face seems suspicious," Leah shoots back.

Bella cranes her neck back, looking up at the ceiling in despair. "Oh my _God_. Why me?"

She is ignored.

Instead, Alice sits up straight with an air of excitement. "Hey! Do you think this means you'll be getting free things this year too?" she asks Bella eagerly.

Off-camera, Leah speaks with a knowledgeable tone. "Ah, sweet Alice, those weren't free things - they were gifts from our Bella's many admirers."

"Those chocolate covered espresso beans were delicious," Rose says with a dreamy expression. "And they lasted an entire semester. So useful for studying."

Leah scoffs. "Why do you think I'm filming this?" she asks. She turns the camera again, this time holding it away from her body so that it captures all four of them in the same frame. She looks sternly into the lens. "Senders of anonymous gifts, take notes. We like caffeine and gift cards. Send things so you can capture Bella's heart."

Over Leah's shoulder, Bella shakes her head slowly at the camera with a haunted, dead sort of stare. "Unbelievable," she whispers, and then falls back against her bed with a groan. "Unbelievable!"

The last image the camera captures is three girls laughing uproariously at their roommate.)

**Comments **

**thelittlecygnet**

You're the actual worst

**byanyothername**

That's no kind of attitude for a beauty queen

**thelittlecygnet**

BLOCKED

HeartsAPlenty

Wait so your school runs an unofficial beauty contest that is won by popular polling every year? Dont you attend Stanford?

Yaheard

rich kids are wild man idk what to tell you

twiiilit

no but okay that girl is so cute? she looks like a doll! no wonder she won!

ZomZomZombies

Isn't that Swanning from Twitch?

**View more comments**

* * *

**A/N: Leah Clearwater runs a YouTube channel called ClarityIsClear - it's part documentary, part spoof, part real-world exercise to practice her filming and video editing skills. Leah uses Bella as the subject of most of her videos by virtue of being childhood friends. Leah is basically a YouTuber, which is a fascinating thing. YouTube will pay YouTubers about $4 for every 1000 views of any video; top YouTubers, such as PewDiePie, have billions of views on their videos. Make something good enough and feed your following and it _is_ possible to make bank from YouTube. **

**Perfect for some broke college students, huh? **

**As a side note - have some faith, readers. All the details in this story have been thought about in terms of realism, including unofficial beauty contests for important schools. Have I ever honestly written anything that _didn't_ make sense? **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	4. chapter 2

**[chapter_2]**

"I can't believe you actually ate my pudding," Leah says, but rather than disbelief, her tone is one of acute shock. "You really did that."

"I really did," Bella says distractedly. She is currently preoccupied with a very important task - repairing her laptop. As with any computer repair, there is a certain delicacy that must be used. Inserting a graphics chip isn't the most difficult task, but she needs to be careful about the surrounding circuitry. The job itself can be done within ten minutes, but there is always the possibility that she might have to reconfigure her default settings and _that_ always takes time. She can be picky about that sort of thing.

Bella uses a tiny screwdriver to replace the backing on her laptop, and with her head still down, casts a glance to Leah. She bites her lip to kill a smile and focuses back on her task.

Leah, standing in their shared common room, is looking down at the silver mesh wire wastebasket and the incriminating evidence sitting shamelessly right at the top - a double-pack of triple chocolate pudding, the sides of the plastic scraped clean. Bella had enjoyed the pudding more than usual. Because it was revenge pudding? Probably. She'd eaten it with certain relish, had taken a selfie with it, and had boldly posted her crime to Twitter.

She'd even used a very appropriate #retribution to punctuate the post.

Leah had not been and continues to not be amused. "This was _reward pudding_ for after midterms," she tells Bella forlornly

"The pudding was delicious. Too bad you missed out, huh?"

Leah makes a strangled noise. "You're an awful best friend! I want a refund."

Bella side-eyes her childhood friend as her laptop is rebooting, clicks her tongue, and then reaches down to pop open the bottom drawer of her desk. She reaches in, shuffling aside papers, a selection of sour gummy candies, and a half-empty box of ballpoint pens, and emerges with a pristine pack of butterscotch pudding. She plonks the pudding on the desk. "I'm not totally heartless," she declares.

Leah darts forward, hugs the pudding to her chest. She blows Bella a kiss. "You're the best, a living gem, we should name you Queen," she says quickly. "I never doubted you, not even for a second."

"Uh huh."

"Ah, it's butterscotch…" Sensing Bella's stare, Leah laughs. "Not that butterscotch is bad, of course. Not my favorite, but infinitely better than vanilla. You know me so well!"

And isn't that the truth?

It isn't an exaggeration to say that Bella and Leah have known each other since they were in diapers. Before Renee Higginbotham had jetted off to glamorous lights and greener pastures, leaving her infant daughter in the care of her taciturn ex-husband, she had been best friends with a certain Sue Clearwater. Renee and Sue had organized playdates in the hopes that their daughters would grow up to be just as close - but in truth, Leah and Bella are even closer than their mothers before them. Maybe this is because they have similar personalities, or maybe because they clung to each other in sisterhood surrounded by rambunctious, stupid boys as they were. Maybe their closeness is a simple side effect of being step-sisters since their freshman year in high school.

Whatever the reason, there isn't a person alive who knows Leah better than Bella; and there isn't anyone on the planet who knows Bella better than Leah. They might as well share a brain.

Which is why Bella knows Leah is lying through her pearly teeth right now. Butterscotch _is_ her favorite pudding.

All the same, Bella likes to play along with Leah's antics when they come along. Too often Leah can get lost in her head, and while being hyper-focused and driven has won her a place at a top rated school, it hadn't come without sacrifice. She can be stubborn and implacable, and when her mind is made up there isn't anything that can make her falter. Sam Uley and his broken heart is a testament to that.

Bella thinks it's all part of growing. For Leah, growing had been something marked by hardship. She cut her teeth on grief when Harry Clearwater's heart failed; she met hunger so she could keep Seth fed when Sue was working two jobs and still not making ends meet; she found strength in honesty and freedom in outrage. It is only now, when Leah has walked on coals to find herself, that her personality is blooming. As her sister and her best friend, Bella will do all she can to support that.

Because Bella might have seen all 20 years of Leah's struggle, but she can only relate to it vicariously. All of Bella's hardships have been softer, muted, insulated. Bella knows loneliness instead of grief; heart-stopping worry instead of hunger; strength in ambition and freedom in a virtual world. Bella hasn't walked on coals so much as she has slipped across ice, sliding and shivering, but never quite falling. She is secure in herself, certain of her worth, and content in modesty.

If Leah is a loud and vibrant firebrand, then Bella is a humble breeze and the cool reflection of lake. And like water, Bella is willing to go with the flow when it suits her.

Bella spins around in her desk chair, eyebrows raised and eyes blinking innocently. "If you're really salty about this pudding, you can always request a different roommate next year," she suggests slyly.

Leah rolls her eyes and traipses to their bedroom. "That's exactly what I'll do!" she calls over her shoulder.

They both know she won't. They have a solemn agreement to request the same room for all four years of college and so far the Stanford housing administration has been accommodating. They've even been lucky enough to be placed in a quad dorm with Alice and Rose. It's been an inside joke that they must be the scholarship dorm, since everyone else on their floor has deep enough pockets to pay for their education without any help. Maybe that really is the reason for their luck rooming together. Regardless, Bella is grateful to have made good friends with good people, just like she is grateful that she has her sister by her side.

It makes this whole experience just a little less intimidating.

Their dorm suite is one of several quad dorms in Roble Hall, situated on the second floor on the west-facing side. The suite itself is something of a butterfly, opening to the common room in the center and two dorm rooms on either side, two beds in each room, and then a shared bathroom at the head. The oblong common room has two pine desks with attached overhead bookshelves on each of the longest off-white walls, while the center of the room has a cluster of beanbags in muted shades over a garish eyesore of rug Alice had insisted on spreading across the floor. They have dedicated an entire corner of the common room to being a clear, blank space where any of them can create content for their various social media side hustles; the corner is used the most by Bella and Rose, who each have set schedules to record content.

The dorm room on the right belongs to Alice and Rose. It is a place that is an explosion of vibrancy, rich with hues in every color of the rainbow. This is in part because of Alice's love of fabrics and her dedication to creating her own clothing, and partially because Rose just has a lot of _stuff_. As an Instagram model, Rose is sent everything under the sun to promote, and since she can't use everything, things just tend to pile up. But both Alice and Rose aren't bothered by the clutter, and neither are Bella and Leah provided the common room is kept clean.

The other dorm room is a stark contrast. Both Bella and Leah have a love for minimalism, and with both of their majors being focused on technology, their room is neatly organized with bins of Leah's camera equipment and Bella's stockpile of flashdrives and hardware, all in shades of greyscale. But while their dorm mates might be happy with the west-facing rooms that let in endless amounts of afternoon sunlight, Bella and Leah have had to get creative. Their hobbies are not things that are done easily in brightly-lit places, after all. The sun is the enemy to sensitive screens and electronics, so they have put up black-out curtains that keep the room cool and dark.

It is a home away from home. Sometimes it is a place that feels more home than home back in the Pacific Northwest. Funny how that happens, how people adapt so completely - how _Bella_ adapts so quickly.

With Leah gone to their room, surely working on editing her latest video, a task she usually relegates to Sunday's for the sake of managing her course load, Bella can again turn her attention to keeping her own schedule on track.

Bella navigates through the electronic files and settings on her hard drive, going through all the reconfiguration for the graphics chip manually rather than letting the computer do the work. Check. Double check. Run a quick performance test. Everything looks good. With a mental pat on the back for a job well done, Bella launches Dawn of Warcraft on her computer.

She always loves watching the game load, the graphic artist in her admiring the rendering of all the different characters and environments that are in the game. The game design itself is industry standard for RPGs, a first-person view that clips through all the game play, the pixilated images smooth enough for when the game launched over five years ago. Bella has been playing for three years and has been taking notes - things she would change and improve if she had the chance. How would she design characters? How would she want them rendered during game play? Is there a way to make everything more lifelike?

She's in college, majoring in Computer Science with minor in Software Engineering, so she can find out. Her dream, her biggest aspiration, is to help build a game that reinvents and revolutionizes gaming. She wants a hand in breaking new ground. She wants to help bring a new world to life.

Bella logs into her account, selects Swansong, and waits for the game to load her previous progress. She is always meticulous about her saves, makes sure that she never loses ground in any of her quests. Progress can only be made with dedication.

The screen materializes into an empty glen surrounded by craggy rocks, Swansong's slender red form right in the center, standing still and staring straight forward. But Bella hardly spares her character a glance, her eyes drawn to the black dialogue box that pops up in the corner of her screen.

《 **Relentless**: meet me at Phoenix Ridge

《 **Relentless**: I need to run something by you

Bella is surprised to find that Relentless has a message waiting for her. Unusual. And the message itself is odd. Formal, almost.

》**Swansong**: is it important?

Relentless must be lurking online because his reply comes immediately.

《 **Relentless**: time sensitive

Bella checks the time. She has a few minutes before the guild meeting starts. She has some time to spare, and her curiosity drives her to quickly agree. She figures Relentless wants to enter another competition - he's insatiably competitive that way and there is always a new competition around the corner. Any time he hears about one, he always jumps on the chance to sign them up.

Something tick-tick-ticks away in her brain. Is it strange that he wants to meet at Phoenix Ridge? Kind of. Actually, it's more than a little odd.

Phoenix Ridge is a place on the game map that doesn't see a lot of action - in fact, there are no formal quests or side quests that involve this spot on the map at all. Phoenix Ridge, the place where old things die and new things are reborn, is only visited for a scant handful of reasons. She knows some players of certain character races who do not respawn quickly have a default setting to take advantage of Phoenix Ridge's 49 second respawn rate. But the majority of players know Phoenix Ridge for other reasons - it is the place where alliances are made and broken.

Swansong appears in Phoenix Ridge, surrounded by rock formations of carved phoenixes, their long tails creating winding paths through round, grassy knolls. There are cherry trees and pink blossoms, the sky forever a shade of blue with cottony clouds. If she had her headset plugged in, she would hear a bubbling brook in the distance and the faint, musical call of mythical birds. Phoenix Ridge is, without a doubt, one of the most lovingly crafted parts of game map.

This is only the second time Swansong has been here. The first was back in October, when Swansong and Relentless created their alliance. Nostalgia drives her to visit the place where it all started - and she supposes that Relentless must share the sentiment, because he is already waiting atop a gently rolling hill, tall and golden.

He does not hesitate when he catches sight of Swansong.

《 **Relentless**: let's dissolve our partnership

On the other side of the screen, Bella raises her brows and sits back. _He's full of surprises today_, she muses with a vague feeling of interest. Relentless is not being relentless, at least not in the way she knows. He certainly seems determined about this.

》**Swansong**: okay. let's go to Concordant Rock

Concordant Rock is the reason why most players visit Phoenix Ridge. The rock, a towering stone figure with an androgynous face, stands in the middle of a mossy lake, two hands held out palm-side up as if in offering. The face on the statue moves in only two ways; a smile for when alliances are made, and a single tear when alliances are broken.

Swansong and Relentless step up to Concordant Rock at the same time, the virtual characters each grasping of the statue hands. On the screen, a new gold-lined dialogue box opens up.

**Do You Consent to Disunion?**

_Yes_. Bella clicks the appropriate option and the dialogue box changes again.

**Swansong and Relentless Have Dissolved Their Union. May Parting Bring New Journeys. **

The entire affair is rather anti-climatic. Bella wishes her parent's divorce was as amicable and free of conflict as this instead of the long, drawn-out custody battle it became. This is much more preferable.

《 **Relentless**: I'm sorry about this

《 **Relentless**: you've been a good partner

》**Swansong**: it's fine, no hard feelings

》**Swansong**: we only allied for that inter-server competition

《 **Relentless**: right

》**Swansong**: I'll see you around

《 **Relentless**: maybe we can fight a dungeon together sometime

《 **Relentless**: for old times sake

》**Swansong**: sure. talk to you later

Swansong and Relentless part, and for the first time in over six months, their private game chat closes. Bella doesn't have any particular feeling about it. It is what it is. Friends in games come and go, and this is just another case of an alliance ending.

Swansong navigates to another portion of the map, heading directly to her guild's meeting place, the grand palace of the Illuminating Lotus Guild. Her guild is one of the larger groups on this server, frequently sharing the burden of hosting newbie players and giving aid for challenging dungeons. Like any decent guild, they share resources between them, pooling medicines, herbs, and weaponry to help each other level up. This meeting is a monthly event, mostly a time to introduce new guild members and take stock of the guild store, redistributing whatever resources each guild member has. Swansong donates several rare herbs she has been collecting, along with the yin iron she keeps getting as reward.

When the meeting is over, Swansong turns to navigate a new place on the map, but a new private chat pops up on the screen.

《 **Janeway**: hey, saw the system announcement

《 **Janeway**: he actually did it

《 **Janeway**: wow

Bella shoudn't be surprised that Janeway already knows about the dissolution of her alliance. Janeway somehow always knows _everything_, sometimes even the instant right after it happens. She hasn't asked, but she assumes that Janeway lives online for a reason - any time Swansong is logged on, Janeway is there too, no matter the time of day. Games, she knows, can be an escape. But it isn't her place to probe.

》**Swansong**: what's so wow about it?

《 **Janeway**: well it wouldn't be so wow

《 **Janeway**: except that the timing is suspect

《 **Janeway**: I guess he's the kind to care about rumors

Rumors? Bella arches a brow at the little purple figure, a Human class Rogue, standing beside her character on the screen.

》**Swansong**: rumors?

《 **Janeway**: about you

》**Swansong**: there are rumors about me?

《 **Janeway**: always

《 **Janeway**: you're ranked in the top 10 of the server

《 **Janeway**: everyone is always talking about you for some reason

Honestly, Bella wouldn't know. She doesn't pay attention to gossip unless someone - usually Alice or Janeway - is shoving it under her nose and demanding she acknowledge it. She knows some people trade in information, but she hasn't ever been able to put any stock in that kind of thing. A rumor is nothing more than a game of telephone.

《 **Janeway: **anyway these are different rumors

》**Swansong**: just spit it out

》**Swansong**: its weird for you to dance around a topic

《 **Janeway: **fair

《 **Janeway: **fine here it goes

《 **Janeway: **people are saying you're actually a man and you're just playing a female character

Bella fairly gapes at the computer screen. People are saying _what_ now? Why?

》**Swansong**: that's not true

》**Swansong**: but even if it was true, why would it matter?

《 **Janeway: **it wouldn't and it doesn't

《 **Janeway: **except that people are saying this for 2 reasons

》**Swansong**: let's hear it

《 **Janeway: **reason 1 is that you must be male because girl gamers can't possibly be as good as you

》**Swansong**: ridiculous

》**Swansong**: next

《 **Janeway: **reason 2 is that you must be a man because you didn't participate in that server beauty contest

》**Swansong**: what

Bella is not prone to fits of violence, but right now she really wants to _hit_ something. _Is this really happening_? She wonders in dismay, shaking her head in exasperation. What _is it_ with beauty contests? Is she being haunted by the damn things?

《 **Janeway: **this is apparently irrefutable evidence that you can't prove that you're a woman

《 **Janeway: **obviously it doesn't occur to people that you wouldn't participate because you aren't vapid

《 **Janeway: **you're here to game, not to date

"Thank you!" Bella whispers sharply, ire nipping at her fingertips as she types, her keystrokes harder than normal. "Someone understands!"

》**Swansong**: people are stupid

》**Swansong**: I'm offended on behalf of all girl gamers

《 **Janeway: **of course you wouldn't be offended for your own sake

》**Swansong**: this stuff doesn't matter to me

《 **Janeway: **not even when you lose a partnership because of it?

If these inane rumors are really the reason Relentless wanted to break things off, then Bella figures she's better off without _that_ kind of fair weather friend.

》**Swansong**: not even then

》**Swansong**: we paired for that competition in October

》**Swansong**: there's nothing to be torn up about

《 **Janeway: **if you say so

》**Swansong**: I'm sort of relieved

》**Swansong**: he was getting annoying

《 **Janeway: **oh?

》**Swansong**: kept asking for pictures, wanted to meet up, that kind of thing

《 **Janeway: **and he wouldn't give up huh

》**Swansong**: nope

《 **Janeway: **men are gross

》**Swansong**: they can be

《 **Janeway: **good riddance then

《 **Janeway: **how does freedom taste?

》**Swansong**: like I get to start whatever side quests I want to now

《 **Janeway: **atta girl

《 **Janeway: **may I join?

》**Swansong**: sure

》**Swansong**: let's improve your kill count

Swansong and Janeway spend the next hour or so taking down prey, but all through it, Bella's mind keeps wandering back to those stupid rumors. She doesn't exactly care about it, but it still bothers her that people are talking about her like that. And it really bothers her that the collective opinion is that only boys can be skilled gamers - the implication being that female gamers are not talented or only there to latch onto a male gamer. The whole ordeal is irritating and Bella finds herself growing increasingly vexed, so much so that she cuts her game off sooner than planned, bidding Janeway good-bye and logging off with a bitter glint in her eye.

"What's with all the sighing?" Leah asks as she passes through the room. She rummages around in their mini-fridge, unearthing a bottle of green tea and cracking it open with an expectant expression. "It's just been sigh after sigh after sigh for, like, an hour now."

"I'm lamenting the fate of humanity," Bella replies bluntly. She'll fill Leah in on this ridiculous problem later, after she sorts her thoughts out about it. She needs a little bit of time to establish her opinion one way or another.

Leah nods sagely. "Understandable. People suck."

* * *

**Bella Swan ʘ****thelittlecygnet**

No one:

Me: rumor does not have it, rumor never had it, rumor doesn't know what rumor is talking about and should mind its own business thanks

**Jakey Wakey ʘjbisnowhere**

Damn girl who hurt you

* * *

By Wednesday afternoon, Bella has put the whole thing behind her. She has more important things to occupy her mind - like acing her midterms and keeping her scholarship for next semester. She's been studying her butt off for _weeks_ in preparation and at this point just wants to get everything out of the way.

Bella rushes around campus in the early morning. She sits for an exam for one of her software classes, then treks back through Huang Center to visit two different professors just to turn in her midterm projects in person. Three classes down, two more to go. She sits for her last midterm test on Friday, but her group project is due tomorrow, which is why Bella hastens to a café just outside of campus once she has finished turning in what she can.

The café is one part coffee house and one part internet café, something which is extremely useful to have so close to a college campus. The Coffee Circuit has a relaxed vibe appropriate for California, not quite hipster but not quite mainstream either. The front half of the café operates much like any other boutique coffee chain, with a low recycled wood countertop standing between harried baristas and caffeine-deprived customers. There is a display case of baked goods and sandwiches, and she zeroes in on a blueberry muffin that calls her name and pairs well with a simple mocha.

Seeing that she is the first in her group to arrive - she has a terribly annoying habit of being early - Bella scouts out a table big enough for her classmates. The table is tucked between the coffee house and the hub of long desks populated by dozens of computers. She is just near enough to notice who is gaming and who is frantically working on last minute projects.

Bella finishes half her muffin, all of her coffee, and still has over half an hour to kill before her group arrives. If Alice was working on shift today, she might have flagged her down and wasted a few minutes talking - but Alice only does shifts at the café on the weekends, so Bella has to find a way to fill her own time.

By habit, Bella's ivory laptop case has traveled along with her denim backpack, accompanying her through her busy day. It's only a matter of minutes to unload her computer, plug it into the nearest power source, juice off the café's internet access, and start up Dawn of Warcraft. Not having enough time to complete a quest, Bella contents herself with duels.

Janeway had not been exaggerating when she indicated that Swansong being ranked in the top 10 on the server was a big deal. Half the time she logs in, if she lingers too long in public spaces, she is inundated with duel requests. She doesn't take too many of them on, mostly out of a sense of self-preservation and an effort not to offend too many people when she wins. Because, as a simple statement of fact, she _always_ wins.

Swansong accepts a duel from a member of the Hoard, his visage nightmarish and scarred. The player calls himself Thunderclap and has a tendency to use elemental-based attacks. He's good, but Swansong is better. While his compatriots watch, Swansong shifts into her cat form and runs literal circles around Thunderclap. It's actually kind of fun, taunting and goading like this, and she takes a certain glee when she wins and Thunderclap finally loses all his mana.

《 **Thunderclap: **you're good let's go again

》**Swansong**: sure, I have some time

They duel again, and this time Thunderclap seems to be more aggressive. He was probably testing her earlier, since it's obvious that he does have _some_ skill. She wonders where he is ranked. Higher than Relentless? Probably. Thunderclap can meter out serious damage and coaxes tricks out of Swansong that she usually saves for big boss fights.

_Now this is fun_, she thinks, a small smirk tilting at the corner of her mouth. Her fingers move quickly and with precision, and the screen glows as attacks are landed and returned. She draws Thunderclap into a clever trap, then takes advantage of the limited range of his attacks, ducking and darting through until her cat form is tearing his throat apart.

Bella grins in triumph at the screen, elation singing through her body.

But her triumph soon turns into confusion, then a deep flush to her cheeks, as she overhears a pointed, probing comment not too far behind her.

"You should go talk to her and ask about her game," says a gentle male voice.

There is no answer and for a moment Bella chastises herself for thinking that someone was talking about _her_. But - well, from what she can see, she _is_ the only female in the café who is on a computer. During her time playing, the café had cleared out some and is much quieter than before. The only girls in the café are Bella, the barista, and two girls with shopping bags gabbing about something that makes them laugh. The only plausible conclusion is that someone is being urged to talk to _Bella_.

Yet still no answer comes, and for that reason, she finds herself curious. But when Bella turns around, all she sees is a politely baffled blond man starting after the retreating back of his silent companion.

Bella turns her eyes forward before the blond man notices her watching.

* * *

**A/N: Ah, Relentless, you poor dumb bastard. **

Handles:

Janeway is yet to be revealed

jbisnowhere is yet to be revealed

**As a side note, there will be interlude chapters like the last one where it is important to pay attention to the _Posted_ _Dates. _Some of the interlude chapters will be non-linear to provide context and the like. Some interlude chapters will be present-time and will glimpse other parts of the story that are relevant. Stay on your toes, dear readers.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	5. chapter 3

**[chapter_3]**

"Dad tells me you're starting your own company."

Masen flicks his eyes up, gauging his brother's expression, before looking back at the virtual chess game displayed on the tablet sitting in the middle of the table between them. "Mm." He moves his knight, setting a trap for three moves from now, then pulls his hand away from the screen.

Carlisle, eternally patient, takes a moment to assess his white pieces, weighing the options that are left to him. He sighs, taking the only course he has with great reluctance. "Without the family's help," Carlisle adds belatedly, pointedly. There is a shade of reticence in the deep blue of his gaze.

His brother feels like he needs to say something, but he doesn't want to step on Masen's toes. The burden of being the older brother - of being the older brother by eight years - is one that Carlisle has always felt keenly. His need to take care of people has thankfully been diverted to his patients, but Carlisle has never forgotten that the first person he ever took care of was Masen, which is what leads to careful conversations of cloaked censure.

Masen's natural reticence has probably not helped curb this habit.

"Starting your own company without the family's help will be hard," Carlisle says. _Harder than it has to be_ is not said, but Masen hears it anyway.

"It's more fun this way," Masen tells his brother.

He has his own silent words that he does not add for the sake of Carlisle's compassionate heart. Carlisle has never seen it, but Masen has always carried the weight of knowing he is the adopted son of the great Cullen clan. He holds his tongue so that he does not draw attention to the unspoken truth - namely the fact that he doubts Grandfather Cullen would be willing to spare the _adopted_ son the capital required to start a business. Masen is perfectly aware he is fortunate his education is paid for and that he is lucky his adoptive mother had managed to wrangle post-graduation living expenses from Grandfather Cullen's elitist, penny-pinching hands. Carlisle can and should remain blissfully aware of all of this. He isn't the type that suffers injustice happily, and he has enough to stress about between his residency at the hospital and his grooming as heir to the various Cullen enterprises.

"You always did like a challenge," Carlisle acknowledges. He loses his bishop, moves a pawn, and furrows his brows at the tablet.

"Mm." Masen shuffles his knight again, then adds, "I have business partners."

"That's great, Masen," Carlisle says warmly, his shoulders relaxing, losing the tension worrying over Masen had caused. "I'm glad to hear it. This all sounds very exciting."

"It is," Masen agrees mildly. "Checkmate."

"Ah, you win again. I'm not surprised. I haven't won in years," Carlisle muses as Masen closes down the app and flips the suede cover over the face of the tablet. "I can't decide if I'm just terrible at chess, or if you're really just that good."

"Both."

Carlisle lets out a soft laugh. He spins the mostly-empty ceramic mug on the table, the dregs of his ridiculous triple-shot espresso sitting dark at the very bottom. Carlisle glances at the fine watch on his wrist. "I have to get back to the hospital."

Masen nods, standing when his brother does. He has one more midterm to sit later this afternoon and probably could have utilized this time to study - but he and Carlisle both have busy enough schedules that this is the only time this week to squeeze in their meeting. These weekly meetings began as a way to stay connected when Carlisle went off to college and maintain their spirit nearly a decade later.

Maintain the brotherhood; maintain the lifeline.

Carlisle leads the way toward the front of The Coffee Circuit and Masen intends to follow - but halfway into weaving between square, mostly empty tables, he sees a familiar flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. On impulse he pauses, turns to look.

The first thing he notices are the hands. Slender fingers, plain fingernails, no ornamentation. Both hands move quickly, a rapid well-practiced rhythm that happens without pause, without hesitation. His eyes shift upward, to the left - and yes, he was right, that's unmistakably a screen displaying Dawn of Warcraft. He notes the playing as commendable, considering this girl is easily overcoming her opponent using only a trap pad, something which can make maneuvering awkward for less experienced players.

But the girl uses the walk-on-air feature flawlessly, even with her avatar shifted into cat form.

Mason's interest is piqued. What's her handle? He has to know, and that has his feet taking two precise, quiet steps forward - just near enough to clearly read the screen, but not close enough to loom. As he does, his eyes cannot help but rove over the side of the girl's face. Peaches and cream complexion, a generous smattering of freckles, the slope of a high-bridged nose. Her hair, a nutty shade of cinnamon that is only _just_ tinted red beneath the warm café lights, is tucked neatly behind her ears, the length waving gently to her waist. She wears a plain white t-shirt and a woven bracelet on one wrist, the kind that children make and give to their friends.

Simple. Modest. No fuss. From the little he can see, he surmises she is attractive. She is certainly clever, that much he can glean from her handle. Ensnared, for the first time in his life, Masen _wants_ to see a girl's face, _wants_ to talk to her.

This girl might be interesting enough to hold his attention, something that only his ambition has held before.

But of course Masen's abrupt preoccupation doesn't escape his brother's notice. Carlisle follows his gaze, an earnest expression on his face once he connects the dots. Masen straightens, turns to retreat, the tips of his ears red at being caught - and at being so easily read.

"You should go talk to her and ask about her game," Carlisle encourages lowly, a gentle prod from a caring sibling who only wants the best for his brother. But as Masen passes him, heading directly for the door, he notably does not push any further, merely accepting what Masen is willing to offer, which, in this case, is a muted bashfulness.

Masen steps out into the warm California sun, his brother right behind him, and thinks, _Serendipity. _He knows himself well enough to know - right now, at this very moment, and with little doubt - that something has just started. The low coil of his ambition, usually banked on honoring his family and his birth family's name, has loosened, reached, tugged in a new direction.

A thin tilt of a lips, a smile just barely not a smirk. _Swansong, huh?_

* * *

**Google Search**

swansong

About 5,970,000 results (0.69 seconds)

_The swan song is a metaphorical phrase for a final gesture, effort, or performance given just before death or retirement. The phrase refers to an ancient belief that swans sing a beautiful song just before their death, having been silent during most of their lifetime._

* * *

**Google Search**

swansong dawn of warcraft

About 1,540 results (0.13 seconds)

Dawn of Warcraft - Forum - NorCal Server - _Dueling Rankings_

**Updated Dueling Rankings **

Posted 12.27.2019

_Top 10 Duelers on NorCal Server_

It's that time again! Before we start the new year and the new decade, we curious netizens have gathered an updated list of the top duelers on the Northern California server. There have been some changes since the mid-year update back in June, and a surprising black horse has joined the ranks. Take a look at the top-rated players who will give you the biggest challenge - if you dare throw down the gauntlet.

1\. Master Culler

2\. Amuunn

3\. Grevious

4\. Swansong

5\. Ole Ole

6\. Reed Reeves

7\. Valkner

8\. Nash

9\. Aggrego

10\. K.O.

**Discussion**

Nussun

Ngl today I dueled with Valkner and lost my actual life this is my ghost haunting the forum

GoGoGadget

Valkner earned that spot and your life

Nussun

You wont hear me arguing

PipPippin

Not surprised Swansong is on here. She's been on the ranking forever

Laurr

You mean shes been 4th forever

PipPippin

Spoken like someone whos been trashed by Swansong.

Janeway

I remember Swansong's duel with you Laurr. I still laugh about it when I'm feeling sad.

Fils

Who the hell is K.O.

Weavel

Not a noob that's for sure

**View More Comments**

* * *

Emmett McCarty barges into their dorm the same way he barges through life - loudly. He opens the door briskly, takes stock of Peter and Alistair huddled over a laptop, spares Masen sitting at his desk half a glance, and then clears his throat. Repeatedly and until he is satisfied he has grasped the attention of everyone in the room.

Emmett stands up straight, pushes his chest out. "I have been approached," he announces with pride, the faintest tinge of Tennessee in his voice.

Masen, sensing the chaos about to be unleashed in his dorm, turns his chair a quarter, and crosses his arms over his chest to settle in for the show.

Emmett, naturally, does not disappoint as he swaggers further into the room, sitting heavily on his unmade bed with a sprawl of long limbs. The bed being unmade isn't anything out of the ordinary since Emmett's half of the dorm is similarly untidy, papers full of math equations littering the floor and a pile of laundry spilling out of the hamper tucked into the closet. By contrast, Masen's half the room is clean, everything precisely where it needs to be. It's the difference between night and day, as well as the product of a year's worth of compromises. Much of the time Masen misses rooming with Alistair. It was much less headache-inducing, and not only because Alistair is a quiet person in general.

Peter has turned toward Emmett, brows drawn up, while Alistair reluctantly looks away from his computer. "By a cult?" Peter asks, searching for clarification.

Emmett scowls at him, clicks his tongue. "No, not by a _cult_." A wide grin, stretching ear to ear, dimples on both cheeks. "By some pretty _ladies_."

Peter is unmoved by the wiggling eyebrows, Alistair merely blinks at the tone, and Masen is unfazed by it all.

Emmett straightens from his lazed sprawl and gestures broadly, wide palms sweeping through the air. "I was approached by two of the Denali sisters! Do you have any idea what a big deal this is? Irina Denali wants _me_ to fix Tanya's computer!"

Peter's eyes go wide, warm maple glittering with interest. "Really?" he asks keenly.

Emmett nods emphatically. _"Really_."

It's Alistair who sucks his teeth, casts a doubtful glance through the lax flop of platinum blond hair falling across his pale forehead. "Are you sure they were asking _you_, or were they fishing for a bigger catch?" he wonders, and none in the room fail to notice that his eyes flick pointedly to Masen.

Emmett rolls his eyes. "I'm not _stupid_," he says bluntly. "I know they're using me to get to Masen. But the point is that they _are_ using me, and that I fully intend to _accidentally forget to mention Tanya's computer problem to my roommate_."

Peter makes a noise of comprehension. "Ah, I see. That is an improvement. Usually girls don't even talk to you for longer than necessary."

"I can't help it if I'm too much man for a woman," Emmett tells them seriously.

Peter does a piss-poor job of hiding his snort, so Emmett throws a dirty sock right in his face. What follows are several minutes of Peter and Emmett roughhousing, Peter getting himself caught in a headlock, and Peter shouting _Uncle! Uncle!_ until Emmett releases him. When Peter is set free, he catches his breath and then says, "You're absolutely right! You're always right! I was just kidding! The-the ladies are lucky to even look in your direction."

"Feeding his delusion isn't helpful, Pete," Alistair mutters.

"Better than dying between those trunks he calls arms," Peter mutters back.

Emmett ignores them. "This is my chance. My dream girl doesn't even look in my direction - _yet_ \- but Tanya and Irina Denali will serve as good practice," he says seriously. "I'll talk in complete sentences to Hale before I graduate even if it kills me."

Ordinarily it's entirely possible Emmett is exaggerating how tied his tongue gets when Rose Hale crosses his path, and even Masen might not have believed that his loudmouth roommate could ever balk socially if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. Unfortunately, he is perfectly aware that Rose Hale is Emmett's _one_ Kryptonite - he's been on the receiving end of more than one rant balanced between frustration and lust. If he finds private humor in Emmett's struggle, well, Masen is only human.

"Not sure if that's ethically sound, but okay, good plan," Peter says. His face lights up as a thought occurs to him. "Do you think they really have computer issues, though? Why not take it to a repair shop? Or - hey, if you can't fix it, give _me_ a call! I've been itching for a new challenge!"

"Ah, Peter. Poor, naïve Peter," Emmett sighs, shaking his head in mock sadness.

"They don't have any computer problems. It's a fabricated, shamelessly thin ploy," Alistair says flatly. "And a dumb one, too. Masen isn't even interested in _people_, let alone girls."

All three of them look at Masen who has been nothing more than a silent observer the whole time. He considers Alistair's assessment, weighs the truth of it, sees if it fits.

And then he smirks.

Emmett pops to his feet, points an accusing finger at Masen. "What the _fuck_ does that mean, Masen? Why are you so smug?"

"I feel like I just walked through a graveyard," Peter says to the room. "I have chills. My soul has left my body."

Alistair rolls his eyes, turns back to his computer. "My soul left my body long ago."

* * *

**Turing Is Our Hero (Group Chat)**

Em Likes Pi

So the Denalis are not what I expected

Peter Panda

What happened

Em Likes Pi

Tanya took one look at me and went to pout in a corner

like an actual corner

With an actual pout

Squidward

Normal reaction to your presence

Em Likes Pi

Go get some sun Al the lack of daylight is getting to your head

Anyway

Irina legit interrogated me about Mase

She used the word whereabouts

In an actual conversation

With another person

Peter Panda

Shes intense

Damn dude

Em Likes Pi

Right?

I played dumb

Squidward

Not hard for you

Em Likes Pi

Then I fixed a computer that wasn't even broken

Also fuck you Al

Squidward

No thanks

Peter Panda

BURN

Em Likes Pi

And then they chased me out of the room

Almost literally

Now I'm just standing in front of the humanities building

Mad Hatter

Outstanding afternoon

Em Likes Pi

Don't worry bro I covered for you

Youre safe from those crazy girls

Mad Hatter

Your sacrifice is appreciated

Peter Panda

Wow almost a thank you

Em Likes Pi

Mase my man what would you do without me?

I'm your best bro right?

Of course I am

Mad Hatter

(Read at 3:51)

Em Likes Pi

That's cold

So very cold

Peter Panda

rip Em

I'll bring a pretty girl to your funeral

Squidward

Stop clogging the group chat I'm in class

Dumbasses

* * *

It doesn't take long to find her in the game. Swansong is well-known in Dawn of Warcraft, a seasoned player with a high seating in the dueling ranking that hasn't slipped for at least two years. He thought the handle seemed vaguely familiar - he's seen it a few steps below his own any time Peter prods at him to check the rankings.

Masen recalls the girl's expert maneuvering, the way she so thoroughly thrashed her opponent with such ease, as if she were merely _playing_ with him - a cat with a mouse. He thinks the ranking is well-earned. He can't imagine many people being able to best Swansong, not in one-on-one duels.

Masen spends a few hours shadowing Swansong's journey through the game, staying just far away enough that the system won't detect him and notify her. She goes on her daily quests with a certain diligence, stays far away from the public areas unless strictly necessary, and plays with a deft talent.

The girl he saw in the café - her skills weren't a one-off and that makes him inordinately please. Eager. Impatient, even.

But Masen has spent a lifetime harnessing his patience, a byproduct of surviving Grandfather Cullen's scathing comments. Masen believes in delayed gratification, knows rewards are all the sweeter when they come after a calculated victory.

He knows what he wants. He just needs to wait for the right opportunity.

And so he places his attention on other things while he exercises his patience. The weekend after midterms are over he gathers his business partners to his dorm and they all sit around a cramped card table with their laptops out. "We have five weeks until the end of the quarter," he begins, pulling up the right programs on his screen. "Which means we have six weeks until the Emergent Games Conference in San Francisco."

"That's so soon," Alistair comments blandly.

Emmett smiles, happy and simple. "How exciting!"

"How nauseating," Peter manages, looking vaguely queasy.

Masen briefly stops navigating through his computer, flicks his eyes between his friends, and resigns himself to a meeting delayed by at least ten minutes. As the conversation blooms around him, he runs through a diagnostic test of their product, searching for flaws that might have developed between their last meeting and now. He might as well be prepared when he drags them back into focus later.

"Shouldn't Alistair be saying that?" Emmett wonders.

"_Alistair_ doesn't have a fear of public speaking," Peter shoots back.

Emmett snorts. "Yeah, because he hates people."

"What do I have to fear from those I loathe?"

"See?" Emmett gestures triumphantly at Alistair's monotony.

"Yes, I see he's _inhuman_," Peter retorts, lifting his chin. "And I also see its inhumane to make me, the one with the soul crushing phobia, be one of the presenters at the conference."

Emmett raises his eyebrows, gestures to Masen. "What, like we're going to send that robot out to make a good impression?"

"He's the CEO!" Peter cries.

Emmett doesn't appear convinced by this argument. "Yeah, but he's also C3PO. Someone capable of a facial expression needs to be the speaker."

"Then why not you?" Peter challenges.

"Me? I'm CFO. I only talk in numbers."

"This is _bullshit_," Peter hisses, appearing very harassed with his curly fawn hair fisted between his fingers.

"I think it's fair," Emmett disagrees, sitting back in his chair. He casts his blue eyes around, innocuous. "We did play for it."

"We played _rock-paper-scissors_ and I am _not_ convinced there wasn't any cheating!"

A thoughtful expression crosses Alistair's face. "Can you even cheat at rock-paper-scissors?"

"Masen can," Peter declares heatedly. "And I wouldn't put it past him if he knew he was causing _unspeakable_ misery if he lost and someone else won."

Three pairs of eyes rest on Masen, with wonder, with skepticism, with accusation. Masen stares back, lifts a single brow.

"Yeah," Emmett sighs out, nodding to himself. "You're probably right, Pete."

"We live with actual Satan," Peter tells them seriously.

Unruffled, Masen glances at the data on his computer screen, then asks, "Where are we with the progress for the mobile game?"

"He doesn't even try to deny it," Peter says under his breath. "Just moves right on to business."

Peter is summarily ignored.

"I've almost finished the digital rendering for all the characters," Alistair offers. "Pan is last. His hooves are giving me trouble."

Masen knew this, of course. While they're each in charge of a specific portion of their mobile game, Masen has the final approval on all aspects of Pagan Immortals. In fact, the majority of the base coding for the game was created by him, and he continues to streamline it, striving for perfection. It's absolutely vital that Pagan Immortals is flawless - if the reception for their slash-and-hack mobile app is good at Emergent Games, then they can easily snare the investors they need to _really_ start their business. There's only so far the revenue from the software Masen has independently released and the old money from Alistair's family will get them. Their goals require _real_ money, and more than that, their start-up needs a sparkling reputation for innovation.

Masen will not accept anything less than perfect. Not with this. Not with anything.

"Will it be finished by the deadline?"

Peter waves his hand, nudges Alistair with his elbow. "I'm helping him code it all in. Don't worry, it'll be ready."

"Optimization is almost done, so I can pitch in where I'm needed," Emmett adds.

Masen nods, calculates it all in his head, compares it to the timeline he's designed for this project. They still have a mountain of work to get done, but he isn't worried. Having goals, working toward something like this, is a challenge he relishes.

Yes. This is a good way to bide his time until _other_ opportunities turn up.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, Masen is Edward. Yes, I have a reason for it. Yes, I did do a poll on Facebook for it. Fight me.**

**Let's see, technology related things to explain in this chapter. Ah. So, the mobile game they're developing, Pagan Immortals, is based on Diablo Immortal, which is a mobile game developed by the same company that developed World of Warcraft. It's a pretty nifty game. A "slash-and-hack" game is exactly what it sounds like - tons of slashing, lots of hacking. I think that's everything that isn't immediately obvious from context.**

Handles:

Mad Hatter is Masen

Em Likes Pi is Emmett

Peter Panda is Peter

Squidward is Alistair

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	6. oh k! midterm face mask party

**[Instagram]**

Oh K! Midterm Face Mask Party

(A post featuring three pictures in succession.

The first is a selfie of Rose Hale, proud and without shame, still classically beautiful even with her face covered in a sheet mask. Her hair, bleached by sunlight and summers spent on beaches, is pulled away from her face in a high tail. The mask is contoured to every curve of her face, its color an iridescent blend of pinkish-periwinkle. She holds an opened square package just to the side of her face, a silvery sheen of paper and bold lettering proclaiming _Oh K! Chok Chok Holographic Sheet Mask._ Her blue eyes, already a vivid shade, stand out on her face, open wide and free of mascara. Even with the mask, the mock expression of awe on her face is obvious.

The second picture is taken by someone else. The vantage point indicates that the photographer was standing just above where the three girls in the picture are sitting on multicolored beanbag chairs. The background is a familiar drape of white fabric patterned in rainbow etchings of astrological signs. In front of the girls, scattered across a garish rug on the floor, are a dozen packets of _Oh K! _facial masks.

In this picture, Rose Hale already has the holographic mask on her face, and she appears to be observing the other two girls, who seem to be captured mid-bicker. The girl with dark, shortly cropped hair held back by a neon pink cotton headband is wearing a white sheet mask. She is kneeling, two masks in hand and held as if offering a choice; meanwhile the remaining girl with green eyes looks up at her, bare face twisted in an expression of delicate confusion.

The third picture is another selfie, this time a group shot depicting four girls squished into the frame. Each of them is grinning behind the sheet masks, which ripple and loosen at the wide expressions. Rose Hale is in the middle, cheek pressing against a girl with dark, slanted eyes and bronzed skin; on either end, the girl with the green eyes and the girl with the pixie haircut are holding rabbit ears behind the heads of the girls in the middle. Rose Hale is giving the camera a peace sign, something like happiness in her eyes.)

**byanyothername **Celebrating the end of midterms with the girls! Thanks to Oh K! for this self care session! :)

#selfcare #ohk #southkoreanbeauty #arentwepretty #midterms #dontremindme

Posted 2 weeks ago

**Comments**

_Ty_-_Liar_ you're even beautiful like this!

mathmagician a goddess, a divine blessing, please marry me in five years

**aliceseesyou** okay but those masks made my skin glow! thanks rose!

savethebees I've been wanting to try these masks and you've totally convinced me! Ordering now!

VeraNotWang Girl you better send some of those my way! Lol Do you have any idea what this child has done to my complexion?

**View More Comments**

* * *

**A/N: I don't believe in filler chapters and this one definitely isn't. Give a cheer for character development - and a tie-in to the previous chapter. Also, as a note, these interlude chapters will be non-linear; while the Youtube interlude was created at the beginning of 2019, this Instagram interlude was created during the same time as the last chapter, which means that the next chapter will be real-time 2 weeks after midterms. I think when this story is complete, all of these social media interludes, as a whole, will create context and an immersive experience. If it's confusing now, I apologize!**

**To that end, Rose is an Instagram model. Some people call this being an "influencer", while others just see it as a side hustle. People like Rose can make a significant amount of money promoting products, such as these face masks. Some Instagram models even attend professional photoshoots to create content. Rose does a combination of both. Like every other millennial and Gen Z trying to make things work, Rose has become a freelancer of sorts. The whole thing is actually kind of fascinating, the things these "influencers" can and cannot do, the contracts that they have to follow, etc. **

**Anyway! Astute readers will notice certain handle(s) in this chapter that may be of some importance later! Guesses on who VeraNotWang is? Or am I misleading you right now?**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	7. chapter 4

**[chapter_4]**

Swansong is in the middle of her daily quest - gathering herbs for medicine, which can actually be useful if there isn't a healer around - when the message pops up in a private chat window on the bottom corner of the screen.

《 **Janeway**: congratulations youre officially part of the first wifes club!

Bella takes one look at the message and prays for patience. Around her, the dorm is mostly silent; Leah is holed up in their room working on a film assignment with the express orders to not be disturbed, Rose is at a study group for one of her Economics courses, and Alice is shopping online, the occasional sounds of her delighted critiques reaching Bella's ears even through the closed door. Alone in the common room and with her only immediate plans on this Friday night being catching up on game time she missed during the week, Bella has no excuse to avoid the gossip Janeway is surely about to personally deliver.

》**Swansong**: you cant just say hello like a normal person, can you?

《 **Janeway**: no I cant

》**Swansong**: of course not

》**Swansong**: what's this club you're talking about?

《 **Janeway**: Relentless is getting a new in-game spouse

《 **Janeway**: it's all over the public chat

Bella doesn't pay much attention to the public chat unless she has a reason for it, especially when she's doing daily quests that don't require additional information. Go here; do this; collect that. These are things that don't require input from whatever drivel is crossing the public chat. Bella stares at the screen and wonders why Janeway feels like this is information she should know about.

》**Swansong**: good for him

《 **Janeway: **are you seriously not even offended

》**Swansong**: not really

《 **Janeway: **not even if I tell you his new partner is the girl who won the server beauty contest?

At that Bella blinks, not quite in shock and not quite in confusion. Bafflement, maybe. Learning this is a new layer of information that comes with a particular connotation. She isn't sure what to think about this, or even if she should. It's not really any of her business what Relentless does anymore.

》**Swansong**: well, okay I guess

《 **Janeway: **see!

《 **Janeway: **here let me rub some salt in the wound

《 **Janeway: **his new spouse in Queen Vee

《 **Janeway: **she isn't on any ranking list and her level isn't even past 50

《 **Janeway: **she just runs around doing nothing

》**Swansong**: now you're just being mean

《 **Janeway: **no I'm emphasizing the insult since you apparently cant see it

In a way, Bella supposes it is an insult. If she looks at the situation objectively, it really doesn't make any sense at all for Relentless to choose a partner who isn't a skilled player. Regardless of where he stands in the rankings - 16 in dueling last time she heard - the whole point of a partner in the game is to support you and make boss fights easier. To pick a partner who isn't useful at all and to pick them for the sole reason of being the winner of a beauty contest - well, there's only one word for that.

》**Swansong**: it is shallow

《 **Janeway: **and dumb!

《 **Janeway: **it's so dumb! he's gonna have to do twice the work when they take on dungeons

》**Swansong**: that's his choice

《 **Janeway: **god youre a saint

《 **Janeway: **I'd be spitting blood if I were you

Bella isn't quite there, yet. She's not angry about this news. If anything, she's bemused by it. She really just doesn't understand the reasoning at all. But then again, she knows that Relentless doesn't really operate on _reasoning_. He just does things, an aftereffect of being a spoiled kid with more than a little money to spare. She vividly recalls the way he would push for pictures, the way he wanted to meet up, the way he clearly wanted _more_ even at the cost of making her uncomfortable, and thinks that maybe this shallow new development makes some kind of sense.

But that's all she feels. There isn't any resentment, no sour grapes. It is what it is. The past, better left untouched to focus on the present and the future.

》**Swansong**: I don't know why I should feel a certain way

》**Swansong**: he was my partner and now he's not

《 **Janeway: **it's the principle of the thing Swansong

《 **Janeway: **plus the other stuff

An acute sense of dread spreads through Bella's body. _Gossip_, she thinks warily. There is _more_ gossip coming. It's like a sixth sense, or something. She just _knows_ she's about to read something she doesn't want to know.

》**Swansong**: do you even play the game or do you just spend your time trolling for gossip?

《 **Janeway: **both obviously

《 **Janeway: **anyway people are saying Relentless found out youre a man and left you for Queen Vee

》**Swansong**: are you serious

》**Swansong**: this again?

《 **Janeway: **well some people are saying that it was you who broke it off with Relentless because you found him consorting with Queen Vee

_Consorting? God that's dramatic_, Bella internally grouses. She wonders if _consorting_ is Janeway's flair for the dramatic, or if players on the public chat are really talking about all of this with such flowery words. It's a toss up. Either could be true.

》**Swansong**: people have too much time on their hands

《 **Janeway: **not all of us are as dedicated to the game as you

《 **Janeway: **we have to do something with our time

》**Swansong**: well talk about someone else then

》**Swansong**: I can't be the only source of entertainment on this game

《 **Janeway: **funny you mention that

《 **Janeway: **theres actually some talk about two other players

Bella just barely stops herself from rolling her eyes. Instead, she briefly closes them and exhales deeply.

Although Janeway's eternal fascination with salacious news can be irritating, it's also true that she sometimes stumbles across information that can be useful. Janeway is always the first to tap into a new quest, find hidden side quests that reap great rewards, and locate rare-kill monsters or dungeons. And more than anything, Janeway's intentions are always good - gossip-mongering aside, she is a _good_ person and an excellent friend, always the first to defend Swansong if need be. Bella knows that half of Janeway's gossip collecting is for the benefit of her friends. And she can't claim that she hasn't ever benefited from it, either.

》**Swansong**: more gossip or is it actual news?

《 **Janeway: **not really gossip

《 **Janeway: **more like chatter just because both players are rare

《 **Janeway: **you should probably know about it anyway in case you come across them

《 **Janeway: **nobody wants to be accused of stealing prey or anything

That's true. Stealing prey from other players is a cardinal sin in gaming. If another player is already taking on a monster, then jumping in to engage in the fight is just about the rudest thing any gamer can do. Taking prey that is not yours, using that opportunity to reap the reward the prey spits out, is lower than low.

And for some players it can be dicey. Depending on the temperament of the player themselves, coming into a fight uninvited can be a cause for huge, long-lasting grudges between gamers. As a general rule, if the player isn't asking for help, _stay away_. The fact that Janeway mentions stealing prey at all clues Bella in to the fact that one of these players - or the people they play with, or even observers - have been throwing out that term already.

Swansong has a sparkling reputation, and Bella intends to keep it that way.

》**Swansong**: you do have a point

》**Swansong**: alright, lay it on me

《 **Janeway: **first is this guy called K.O, he's a Kul Tiran Monk

《 **Janeway: **he's a monster okay, he's been demolishing everything in his path for a month

《 **Janeway: **and word is that he's looking for someone

**》****Swansong:** who?

《 **Janeway: **nobody knows

《 **Janeway: **its all weird

Bella agrees. It does sound _weird_. While it isn't so strange that a player new to the server is quickly climbing the ranks - they could be from a different server, or they could be levelling up a new character on their account, for example - it _is_ strange to hear that this same player is searching for someone. It's weird enough to make Bella curious about what his game is, what his plan is. She almost wants to be the next person to run into him, just to see.

》**Swansong**: who's the second player then?

《 **Janeway: **your idol of course

**》****Swansong: **really?

《 **Janeway: **yep, Master Culler has been active and public lately

《 **Janeway: **usually we never see him, but these past two weeks its like hes everywhere

**》****Swansong: **I haven't seen him

《 **Janeway: **he ghosts around but he's there, trust me

_Ghosting around_? _Probably using a cloaking spell, then_, Bella surmises. Even though she's never talked to him, she knows quite a bit about Maser Culler, a seasoned player at the top of both the dueling and equipment rankings. She's been lucky enough to see Master Culler, a Night Elf class Mage, in action one time - and she is still marveling over his smooth maneuvers and the swift back-to-back deployment of advanced spell-casting. Master Culler is easily a world-class player. Sometimes when she catches up on E-Sports tournaments, she imagines if any of those gamers have Master Culler as a handle. They never do, but that doesn't stop Bella from keeping the hope alive in her heart.

Master Culler is an elusive, mysterious player. Based on his high rankings, most would expect to see him _everywhere_ \- but the fact of the matter is that Master Culler is a player that might as well be invisible. He's probably the only player who utilizes a cloaking spell so habitually, so to learn that he has been foregoing the cloaking lately is startling.

**》****Swansong: **is he doing anything weird?

《 **Janeway: **no, but just being so visible is enough for people to talk

《 **Janeway: **some are saying K.O. and Master Culler are looking for each other, but I'm not sure

**》****Swansong: **even if they are it's nobody's business

《 **Janeway: **you poor noble soul, all along in this superficial world

**》****Swansong: **I know you're kidding, but…

《 **Janeway: **lol

《 **Janeway: **want to go kill some stuff?

**》****Swansong: **yes, please

Later, when Bella logs out of the game, she heaves out a long sigh, rubbing the heels of her palms into her closed eyes. Her eyelids feel heavy and dry, but beyond that there is a great tension building in her head, running down the back of her neck. Frustration. She's always been the type to physically experience her feelings, especially strong ones. Tears come easy to her. She can already feel them burning, ready to be unleashed.

Maybe it's silly to be bothered by nonsense that happens in the game. Honestly until now she hadn't been. Easy to brush off. Easy to forget. Usually it works. But this time - no. Not so easy, because people just won't let it die.

She entertains the possibility of putting all these ridiculous rumors to rest once and for all. Just post a picture to the forum and be done with it. The thought lasts for half a second before she firmly banishes it.

Bella has nothing to prove to strangers in a virtual world. She definitely has nothing to prove to people who are superficial enough to care about such things. She plays the game because she enjoys it - not because she wants to participate in some dated groupthink about gender roles. Besides, she knows people who think like that are in the minority. Certainly those who follow Swanning don't care about that sort of thing, not anymore.

_It'll be alright, _she tells herself. _These things always pass._ Eventually, people will move on and talk about someone else - and with the emergence of players like K.O. and Master Culler, it's clear to her that they already _are_ moving on. She just has to keep holding out.

* * *

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis**

That feeling when your sister doesn't want to talk about her angst but you can tell because she has a FACE

Seth Clearwater **ʘ****changethisquil**

**ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis **Is she doing that thing where she starts cleaning everything?

Jakey Wakey **ʘjbisnowhere**

**ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis** Send her over here. My room is a mess.

Bella Swan **ʘ****t****helittlecygnet**

You know I can see these right? **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis**

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis**

(Gif: Severus Snap saying, "Obv….iously.")

* * *

Sunday night, around the ten o'clock peak gaming hour, Swansong is found at the wrong place at the worst possible time. And the awful, inescapable truth that nobody would believe even if she told them is that her bad timing is nothing more than a coincidence. An accident. A innocuous faux pas facilitated by Leah having an issue with her film editing software. Bella spends an hour troubleshooting the software for the sake of her sister's assignment, which is due first thing the next morning. With Leah pacing a hole in the floor of their room, Bella runs through diagnostics and resets, and manages to restore Leah's assignment without the film student _completely_ losing her mind to anxiety. For good measure, she even takes the time to teach Leah - again - how to ghost safe a project on a cloud, just in case the software bungles itself up a second time.

When Bella leaves her laptop in the common room, Swansong is standing atop an empty bridge just outside of the town holding her next quest - but when she returns, after having successfully extracted herself from Leah's rib-crushing hug, she finds that Swansong is swarmed by at least three dozen players.

At first, it isn't a strange sight. Players tend to grow dense in areas that host quests, and since this bridge is on the way to a quest for higher level players, it makes sense to see several clustered together. But then, no, that wouldn't make sense - all the players are standing still. A duel, then? Are they bystanders?

It rapidly becomes clear, however, that all of these players are here to observe a wedding. A very specific wedding, in fact. Bella's eyes rove over the public chat and she bites her lip. _Crap_. It seems all these onlookers are here to watch the grand procession of Relentless and Queen Vee's wedding. In light of all she has learned about Relentless recently, such a public affair using a seldom-seen in-game feature, which marches the wedded pair through hubs of highly-populated locations on the map, isn't so surprising. It seems like exactly the kind of social status statement a player like Queen Vee would latch on to, and Relentless has showed his cards for how much he cares about such things.

Bella doesn't care about that. What _she_ cares about is that Swansong has been standing on this bridge for over an hour, unresponsive to the chat, and it looks _bad_. It looks like Swansong is pouting, or that she resents the wedding. She can just imagine Janeway's next report, the new gossip that claims Swansong is a jilted woman or some other nonsense.

As she reads the chatter on the public chat, she can see it already happening. Even as the wedding procession comes into view, the golden figure of Relentless and the garish orange ensemble of Queen Vee edging in from the corner of the screen, some player are bemoaning Swansong's presence.

_People only care about newlyweds, but what about the lovers left behind_? She reads, a faint curl to her lip.

_Is she here to stop the wedding? _

_I thought Swansong had more class!_

_Relentless is a fool and Queen Vee is a useless harpy_

_Poor Swansong…_

_Poor Relentless! Look who he's stuck with now!_

_I feel bad for Queen Vee - it's her wedding!_

_I don't get it. Why is she just standing there?_

Bella can't read any more of this - this _ridiculousness!_ Her land curls over her mouse, ready to guide Swansong away, but then she pauses, chewing on her bottom lip. If she leaves abruptly, will that give credit to this silly gossip? But if she stays, isn't that just as bad?

Bella huffs, planting her elbow on her desk and resting her chin on her palm. Her mind ticks away, trying to find a ready-made solution that simply doesn't exist. She can't stay; she can't go. She might not care about rumors and gossip - but she isn't foolish enough to think that she doesn't need to maintain her reputation in the game. She's carved out a spot for herself on this server, a place she cannot be shaken from. If she wants to keep her status, she needs to be seen as someone who _can_ be approached for a duel. It's imperative to keep her reputation as spotless as possible - after all, only people on the ranking list are automatically invited to tournaments that give out grand prizes, and she can only stay on a ranking list if she can continue accepting duels.

This is a quagmire, a conundrum, a fork in the road. What can she do?

Struck by a thought, Bella sits up and lets her fingers fly across the keyboard.

**》****Swansong: **rare medicine for sale, certified for healing!

**》****Swansong: **get it while it lasts

Swansong's medicinal inventory is opened up and almost immediately a deluge of buyers are striking deals. Bella has a habit of stockpiling medicine, and it's a stroke of genius to redirect all this attention from the potential spread of new rumors. It doesn't hurt, of course, that half of the game money is cash she can use in the real world. Her account will be very happy in the morning.

She empties her inventory after scraping the bottom of the metaphorical barrel, and when it's done, she speaks to the public chat again.

**》****Swansong: **sold out!

There is a wave of disappointed comments in the chat. _When will you be back? Will you sell more? I'll pay extra - contact me as soon as there's more!_ Bella reads it all and allows herself a small, satisfied smile. She's reasonably sure she managed to distract everyone from what might have been a huge stain on her reputation.

**》****Swansong: **the next sale will be at my whim

**》****Swansong:** thanks everyone!

Bella sits back and relief, watching the players around her disperse. Ahead, the gold and orange figures at the head of the wedding procession are fading into the difference. She gives herself a moment to bask in this bit of good luck - it looks like she managed to avoid a confrontation _and_ pad her wallet at the same time. It isn't a bad way to spend the night.

Bella glances at the time on her phone, assessing if she can spare a few minutes to go get the directions for her next quest, or if she should call it a day, go to sleep, and try again tomorrow. On the screen, Swansong paces toward the town, her player indecisive.

And then she sees the handle.

For a moment, she thinks she's imagining it. But then - no, she's reading the name right, and the silver-and-white garbed character is unmistakable by himself. It's Master Culler, without the cloaking spell, visible to anyone who passes by. She runs her eyes over his armor, the deep blue jewels set into silver-wrought plating, the deceptively thin arcane wand held in one hand - and she thinks, _No wonder he's at the top of the equipment ranking_. She doesn't think she could name half the rare materials he's wearing if she tried. How skilled does a player have to be to obtain so many materials that can't be bought, only won?

He really is her gaming idol. To see him at all is an honor itself, something that causes her heart to race in her chest.

Master Culler is standing alone at the foot of the bridge. Waiting for someone? Would he mind if she asked him a question? She's dying to pick his brain about some of the techniques she's seen in the few screen-captured fights some players have managed to post on YouTube. How does he triple his spell-casting arrays? Is it only a skill Mages have, or can Swansong, a Druid, also learn?

Bella is so busy trying to muster the courage to ask when a new dialogue box for a private chat pops up on her screen.

It's - it's Master Culler. Master Culler started a private chat with _Swansong_? With _her_? Bewildered, she can only stare at the message the blinks into existence.

《 **Master Culler**: do you have time?

**》****Swansong**: yes

Bella answers quickly, without thinking. Master Culler is asking if she has the time to _chat_. She would make the time, even if it meant staying up all night. This is her one chance to get answers to the burning questions she has about his technique - she won't be wasting this opportunity, not in the slightest.

《 **Master Culler**: how did you like the wedding?

**》****Swansong**: it was great, grand even

《 **Master Culler**: would you like an even more lavish ceremony?

Bella blinks at the screen, all her excitement traded for confusion. Master Culler wants to…talk about the wedding features in Dawn of Warcraft? How odd. She doesn't get it, doesn't understand it at all. And she has no idea to segue into _her_ questions when he's talking about in-game _weddings_ of all things!

Bella types out her response carefully.

**》****Swansong**: I'm sorry, I don't think I understand the question

《 **Master Culler**: will you form an alliance with me?

Bella's breath leaves her in a _whoosh_, a stunned, numb sort of feeling spreading from the tips of her fingers all the way down to her toes.

"Oh."

A breathe later.

"_Oh, my God."_

* * *

**A/N: Whoop there it is, whatever _it_ is. I'm not saying shit, except remember to wash your hands, monitor yourself for fever and if you have a fever seek medical attention. Stay safe, lovely readers. We're all going to be okay.**

Handles:

Swansong is Bella Swan

thelittlecygnet is Bella Swan

Relentless is yet to be revealed

Queen Vee is yet to be revealed

Master Culler is yet to be revealed

aliceseesyou is Alice Brandon

ClarityIsClear is Leah Clearwater

ClearlyFilmingThis is Leah Clearwater

byanyothername is Rose Hale

Janeway is yet to be revealed

jbisnowhere is Jacob Black

changethisquil is Seth Clearwater

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	8. chapter 5

**[chapter_5]**

It's not the first time a player has proposed an in-game marriage to her to formalize an alliance, but Bella is still struck dumb. Master Culler and Relentless are leagues away from each other, after all - because while Relentless is a good player, easily within the top twenty on the server, Master Culler is something else altogether. Untouchable. Unbeaten. Unrivaled.

And he's proposing an alliance to her.

Bella isn't particularly humble. She has always had a healthy sense of her worth and knows that she is a skilled player herself. She knows that she was a better player than Relentless, knows that their alliance was somewhat unbalanced, but she also knows that they had made a well-matched team. Now, this is a master player wanting to ally with her, and she finds herself facing the opposite position. In this partnership, if she were to accept, Swansong would be the one who needed to keep up.

Not that this bothers her - honestly, it doesn't. In fact, part of her really wants to see how she measures up to Master Culler's skill. This might be her chance.

Still, the question still burns. Master Culler is infamous on the server. He games with three other players, not quite an established guild, and has never had any formalized alliances. He's hardly ever seen, let alone approached for that sort of thing. To be on the receiving end of this proposal from him is mind-boggling.

She has to ask - has to, a need as urgent as her next breath.

**》Swansong:** why me?

**《 Master Culler:** there's a multi-server tournament coming up

**《 Master Culler:** you're the ideal partner

She's ideal? Bella's brows arch high. Why? Why Swansong of all the players on the server? She's only ranked fourth - the third and second players on the duel ranking don't have alliances either, and there is no set rule in the game that says male characters can't form a union. If Master Culler wanted a high-ranked player for a partner, he certainly has at least two other players to choose from.

Yet he picked her.

Bella's thoughts mull over each other. Master Culler is the type of player that utilizes strategy for everything in the game - he doesn't do anything without a reason, probably without at least three reasons. Calculative. Cerebral. Bella puzzles over this and comes to the conclusion that he must know details about the tournament that have convinced him Swansong is the best way to victory. She admittedly does not know much about the tournament, other than the fact that only players with in-game alliances can participate - since she hadn't intended on entering, she hadn't bothered to keep up with any news being released on the forum.

That must be it, she thinks triumphantly, glad to have a reason for this surprising turn of events.

**《 Master Culler:** will you be my in-game spouse?

There is only a split second of hesitation when the question is asked a second time. She understands the reason. She even knows that she can benefit from this alliance a lot. The part of her that thrills at playing the game is tantalized by the promise of new adventures, of new doors that being Master Culler's partner can open up for her.

**》Swansong:** yes

**》Swansong:** I'll meet you at Phoenix Ridge

**《 Master Culler:** wait

**《 Master Culler:** not today

Bella frowns at the private chat box. "What?" She furrows her brows as another message appears, a flood of incredulity rushing through her body. She struggles not to gape at the words sitting on the screen, even as she taps out a new response.

**《 Master Culler:** I have another day in mind

**》Swansong:** when?

She supposes it makes sense for master players to have their quirks - nobody can be so skilled without being peculiar one way or another. Gaming is something that can suck away hours of the day, and serious gamers have a certain amount of dedication that speaks to something in their personalities. Master Culler, she already knows, is a deliberate sort. He has a reason for picking Swansong; he probably has a reason for picking a specific day.

**《 Master Culler:** Phoenix Ridge, Saturday, 8pm

**》Swansong:** Saturday?

**》Swansong:** that's almost a week away

**《 Master Culler:** I need to prepare

**》Swansong:** fair enough

**》Swansong:** I'll see you then

Master Culler doesn't say anything else. Instead, the tall, white-robed figure on the screen fades into mist, and then the private chat pops up with a message from the system.

**Master Culler Has Logged Off**

Bella stares at the notification, somewhat stupefied. The lateness of the day drags at her body, makes her eyes feel dry and gritty. Swansong's next quest will just have to wait until tomorrow. Bella logs out of the game with relief, leaning back in her chair with a huge explosion of air. The night had been so stressful and for so many different reasons. She fights back a yawn and stands, scooping up her phone on her way to her room.

Leah is still sat cross-legged on her bed, bulky headphones shoved firmly atop her head as she furiously edits her assignment. Knowing her sister, Leah will probably be up more than half the night. Bella can't relate - she plans to sleep for at least 10 hours and is certain she can, even with Leah's harried quiet muttering on the other side of their bedroom.

Her last conscious thought before she falls asleep is, _What just happened?_

* * *

Seth Clearwater **ʘchangethisquil**

#todayiwish that **ʘthelittlecygnet** could help me pass this level bc I'm in hell

Bella Swan **ʘthelittlecygnet**

Wow I feel cherished #annoyinglittlebrothers

Seth Clearwater **ʘchangethisquil**

Don't shade me just help me

Bella Swan **ʘthelittlecygnet**

**ʘchangethisquil** you know my channel, I'll run a special tutorial for you

Seth Clearwater **ʘchangethisquil**

**ʘthelittlecygnet** is the best sister in the world

L Clearwater **ʘClearlyFlimingThis**

This is blatant favoritism

Seth Clearwater **ʘchangethisquil**

**ʘClearlyFlimingThis** what have you ever done for me?

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis**

I let you live #dontmakemeregretit

* * *

"What do you mean you're getting married?"

Bella cringes as Rose's voice, just a touch too loud, echoes through the bathroom. Their bathroom suite has always let sound travel like a deep cavern, something that hasn't changed no matter how many rugs are on the floor or how many towels are hanging from wooden pegs. It's something about the design of the room, the long, narrow shape with a standing shower at one end and a combination sink-drawer-counter at the other. They have a shelf on the longest wall dedicated to their individual bathroom cubbies, each a different color; the back of the door hosts a collection of bathrobes and quick-dry hair turbans; and the space under the sink is a hidden trove of rations for even the worst periods, from Midol to tampons of all sizes. The entire bathroom, from top to bottom, is tiled in white, with the occasional crimson tile acting as an accent - it makes for a lot of empty space with no place for sound waves to be absorbed, with the exception of the faded red shag monstrosity one of them, probably Alice, has dragged into the dorm.

They're all crowded into the narrow room, each of them with a slightly different task. Alice is bent over the sink toward the mirror, carefully plucking her brows; Leah is sitting in a metal folding chair, towel around her neck, filing her nails while Rose stands behind her, hands covered in the disposable latex gloves that came with the violently violet shade of dye she is applying to Leah's hair; and Bella is perched on the edge of the closed toilet lid, knee pulled up to her chest while she paints her toes a soft shade of mint green.

The suddenness of Rose's loud question has inadvertently made Bella paint a wide streak over half her toe. She wipes it away as best she can with the side of her thumb, dips the brush, and tries again.

From the mirror Alice says, "It's like a thing in her game, Rose."

"I know that," Rose snaps. "I just thought she already was."

Leah grins, sly as a fox. "Your tea is so stale. Our Bella has been online-single for two weeks."

The next stroke of the hair dye brush is hard, pressing into the back of Leah's head in reprimand. "Excuse me from having my own life!" Rose mutters with irritation, moving on to the next strand of dark hair.

"You're excused," Leah tells her.

Rose raps the top of Leah's head with the brush. "You-!"

"So," Alice says brightly, turning away from the mirror, her round eyes shining with excitement. "Do you get to wear a dress?"

"Huh?" Bella glances at her with confusion, then looks back down at her toes. She shrugs. "I mean, not really. Players can buy wedding regalia, but it's kind of a waste of money. Might as well buy armor if you want something new - not that I'll be doing that, either."

Alice pouts. "Why not? It sounds like shopping and shopping sounds like fun."

Bella is extremely skeptical of Alice's logic. The only shopping Bella likes to do is online and only from Old Navy, because clothes don't really need to be anything other than functional and she has no interest in spending hours at a mall, ever. Not her idea of a good time. She can sometimes be persuaded to check out the local shops with her roommates, but only because she knows they ask her along as a bonding thing.

"The whole thing is just a formality," Bella says. Her mind briefly touches on Master Culler's proposal and the championship that would be coming up over the summer. Thinking on it, she really admires his strategy; if they partner now, they have several weeks to learn how to work together in battle situations. "Our partnership just needs to be logged on the system."

"Oh…"

Bella bites back a grin, trying not to be too amused by Alice's misplaced disappointment. Trust Alice to be excited by even the idea of shopping for a virtual person.

"Forget about all of that," Rose cuts in. She's about halfway through with Leah's hair, the chemical and artificial-fruit scent of the hair dye wafting strongly through the air. "I want to know what online-single means."

"It means like what it sounds," Leah explains with authority. "She was single online and now she's taken. Online-single to online-married. Bella, you move so quick. What will your father say?"

Bella rolls her eyes. Leah knows as well as Bella does that Charlie Swan doesn't give a damn what his daughters get up to as long as they're being safe and carrying pepper spray.

Rose lifts her head to look at her. "Does this mean you're off the market in real life? Is this one a boyfriend?"

"Yes," Leah answers for her, filing the end of her nail into a blunt square.

"No," Bella corrects. She shakes her head, blows on the wet polish on her toes. "No, of course not. Leah is just making things up."

"So, it's not a thing?" Rose checks, and to her credit, although she doesn't know a thing about gaming and honestly could care less about what Bella does online, she sounds genuinely interested. That's the thing about Rose, though. People like to write her off as this blonde California girl with nothing but empty air between her ears - but she cares about her people and she's smarter than most people Bella has ever met. And she's clever enough to use those assumptions to pay her way through college. Bella has nothing but admiration for her.

Capping the nail polish bottle, Bella shifts, stretching her legs out in front of her and flexing her ankles. "Maybe it is for some people, but they're usually couples in real life, too," she says, then wrinkles her nose. "Which is definitely not the situation here."

Alice makes a sound of comprehension. "Then your dance card is still empty! You can still date!"

Bella is mystified by the statement, because she's never dated in the first place. She doesn't understand why her friends are making such a big deal about this - but then, maybe it's because when she explained it, she had spoken about it, about Master Culler, with some enthusiasm. All three of them have obviously read more into it than she thought.

"Dance card," Leah snickers, a tease a tad too mean as she fiddles with the nail file. "Dance card? Do people even say that anymore?"

Rose clucks her tongue, rapping Leah on the head again with the brush. "Don't be mean," she chides. "Alice grew up in the South and that's how they talk there. She can't help it if she sounds ridiculous."

Alice rears backward with a dramatic gasp, her hand over her heart. "Bella!" she cries, a delicate wrinkle on her brow. "They're bullying me again!"

"I know, I know," Bella says soothingly. She wiggles her toes, liking the flash of the pretty color. There are subtle sparkles in the polish, just enough to catch the light. "They're so mean. Harpies, the both of them."

Leah snorts, raises a brow at Alice. "Why are you tattling to Bella? What's she going to do about it?"

"Cut off your access to those espresso beans," Bella says bluntly, a quirk of a smile hidden in the corner of her mouth.

Leah twists her head around. "No, you wouldn't dare."

Rose actually drops the hair dye brush in shock; it falls onto the campus newsletter spread across the middle of the rug under Leah's chair, the dye splattering on her bare feet and ankles. "You can't do that! Finals are coming up and I need them to study!"

Bella's smile widens peaceably, refusing to let them call her bluff. "You should have been nicer then."

"Alice!" Rose says quickly. She turns to their shortest friend, hands clasped together and held to her chest; Alice turns her face away, refusing to look at Rose. "Dear, sweet Alice! I'm sorry I was mean, I'll never be mean again! Won't you forgive me?"

"You're so weak," Leah hisses, craning her head around Rose's body to pin Bella with a challenging look. "It's not like Bella has any good hiding places."

She's right. The dorm is small and the one hiding place she has is the bottom drawer of her desk, which everyone knows about. But even still, she raises a single brow, meeting Leah's challenge stare-for-stare. "That's what you think, sis."

Even under the warm bronze of her complexion, the blanching of Leah's skin is obvious. She hastens to apologize to Alice, too, and Bella can only count it as a win.

Much better than talking about the supremely absurd idea that Master Culler would actually want to date her in real life - which is about as insane as the idea that Bella would meet an online stranger in real life.

Master Culler or not, there's no way that's happening. Ever.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Shortcake

I just learned the best news

It's so great

You guys are going to be so excited

Hello?

Hello hello hello

Paparazzi

Omg what

What is it

Shortcake

Leah! Be patient and wait for the others

Paparazzi

You know you could just, like, tell the chat

And everyone will see it eventually

That's a thing you could do

Shortcake

Its better this way

More fun!

Sleep Talker

Sorry was in class

What's up?

Shortcake

Wheres Rose?

Sleep Talker

Wasn't she in the dorm?

Paparazzi

No she left when I did

Right after you

Shortcake

I'm the only one here

Is she missing?

Should we call the police?

Sleep Talker

I'm sure shes around

Calm down Ali

We can always check

the app if she doesn't turn up

Thorny

Please don't call the police

I'm not missing

I WAS in the library but I had to leave

Sleep Talker

Is it that guy again?

Paparazzi

That guy?

The one who calls her goddess to her actual face?

Thorny

He's a whole dumbass

I don't want to talk about it

What did Ali want to talk about?

Shortcake

Okay now that youre all here!

I have news!

Paparazzi

Spit it out already god

Shortcake

Well since you asked so nicely!

I just heard about a summer internship

with this huge local company!

Thorny

Yay unpaid labor

Paparazzi

Big company taking advantage poor college kids

who so desperately need something on their resume

they wont even complain about not being paid

Capitalism

My favorite thing

Sleep Talker

I'm sensing a bit of sarcasm

Shortcake

Wait wait

Who said it wasn't paid?

They're paying! $200 a wk

Thorny

What really?

Shortcake

That's what it says on the website

Paparazzi

Wow

Sounds fake but okay

Shortcake

Right?

Thorny

Whats the company?

Shortcake

Denali

Theyre like a tech place I think

Sleep Talker

Not just a tech company

They're kind of big

with software and games

Thorny

And theyre looking for interns?

Shortcake

Theyre accepting all applicants for interviews

You don't have to have a computer major

Should I sign us up?

Paparazzi

Sure why the hell not?

Sleep Talker

Yes

Yes you should

Thorny

I'll roll the dice too

Count me in

Shortcake

Great!

* * *

Bella's stomach rumbles ominously, a keen hunger she's been feeling on and off since she missed lunch in favor of attending one of her professor's office hours this afternoon. She would have stopped at a kiosk or a vending machine for a snack, but she'd left her wallet back in her dorm - and then she'd had another class, because she made her own class schedule into a good approximation of hell this quarter, so she'd done her best to ignore her hunger. By the time she made it back to the dorm, intent on scarfing a snack to hold her over, her roommates were on their way to the dining hall and had dragged Bella along with them. She'd barely had enough time to drop her backpack!

Fantasies of spicy tacos and buffalo wings, of crisp golden fries and snapping carrot sticks, of cheese and all other manner of her favorite foods cross her mind. Oh, God, what about Sue's fish fry? Or popcorn? No, _caramel_ popcorn - that's much better -

"We should hurry, or Bella's stomach is going to rip itself out of her body to get to the dining hall, just like that scene in _Alien_," Leah says from beside her. She doesn't even have the decency to hide her smirk or look up from her phone.

Ordinarily, Bella would accuse her sister of being overly dramatic, but she's hungry enough that she can actually see something like that happening. The possibility feels terrifyingly real.

She must look pitiful, because soon enough Alice is rummaging through her giant bag and unearthing a pack of half-smashed peanut butter crackers. "Here, honey," she says as she passes the crackers over. "Don't pass out on us."

"Bless you," Bella says sincerely, before proceeding to gracelessly stuff her face as quickly as possible. Her cheeks puff out at the sides, the remnants of crackers sticking to her lips. All too soon the crinkle of empty plastic fills the air and Bella swallows dryly, trying to work the thick of peanut butter from her throat. Wordlessly, Alice passes a bottle of water, which Bella uses to slake her sudden thirst.

On her other side, Rose watches the scene with a disgusted fascination. "Charming."

"I wish I had my camera," Leah laments. "This would be gold for my channel."

Bella, for one, is glad that Leah's camera is back in the dorm so that this shameless moment will not be forever immortalized - or on the internet for other people to see. There's been enough of that, thanks.

Bella is about to retort, but as they pass by a group of girls gathered around the bulletin board just outside the dining hall, her ears prick at hearing a particular name - and her words die on her tongue.

"I can't believe Masen Cullen is already graduating! It just isn't fair!"

"I'm so jealous of the other senior upperclassmen who got to share classes with him."

"The seniors? Please, I'm jealous of the juniors and sophomores, too. It sucks being frosh - I only saw him in the flesh once."

Bella stops in her tracks, orienting herself just enough to peer past the gaggle of girls. The campus bulletin board is painted a vibrant cardinal red, peeling and cracked from weathering, and just as cluttered as always with announcements, recruiting for campus organizations, and reminders from the administration. At first, she doesn't know what she's looking for, doesn't know what has drawn the attention of these apparent freshmen. But then - yes, there it is, a freshly pinned poster announcing upcoming graduates from the Dean's List. The text printed on the poster is too small for her to read each of the ten or so names printed there, but she doesn't need to be close to know what names she will find. Even if these freshmen hadn't been speaking so loudly, Bella is keenly aware of exactly who is on this list - as well as who is graduating in only a few short weeks.

It had slipped her mind, but she guesses she won't be hearing about him anymore. She won't be seeing a lot of familiar faces at Huang Center, either. So many of her upperclassmen are graduating this year, one of them more notable than the rest. After all, it's not often a student makes the Dean's List four years in a row.

"Bella?"

She startles, turning back to her roommates quick enough her head spins. She finds them looking at her with varying levels of curiosity. Behind her, still clustered around the bulletin board, the freshmen still chatter and grumble about the general unfairness of the world, their voices loud and carrying.

Rose is the first to catch on that Bella has been eavesdropping. She arches one perfect brow, then pins Bella with an expectant stare. "Who are they talking about? Someone you know?"

"A senior in my department," Bella hedges, but while she can school her voice to a certain tone, she can't stop the flicker of a flush creeping up her cheeks.

"Oh," Leah says knowingly.

Alice frowns. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Leah drawls, an unholy glimmer in her eye. "Oh."

Bella looks at her sister warningly. "Leah…"

Leah, because she is Leah, promptly ignores her, looking between Alice and Rose with a taunting twitch of her lips. "Don't let our Bella's casual tone fool you," she tells them. "This senior in her department is her dream man."

"No, he's not," Bella says quickly, forcefully, falsely. It's the kind of denial that kids use, the kind that is a thoughtless dismissal of an obvious truth, and she knows she's caught the second the words tumble from her mouth.

"He isn't?" Rose asks doubtfully, both of her brows raised.

"Well..I-" Bella stops, feeling the heat deepen on her face. "It's not like that! I just admire his skill," she asserts.

"And how pretty he is," Leah adds heartlessly.

"He could look like he took a shovel to the face and I would still admire him," Bella says hotly.

And it's true - it's so true, because while Masen Cullen might be the most attractive person Bella has seen in her entire life, she could honestly care less about his looks. The admirable part about Masen Cullen is his mind and his talent. She's been collecting his independently released software and apps since she was in high school, way before she knew that he went to Stanford too. In fact, learning that the Masen Cullen who engineered her favorite programs is the same Masen Cullen who is at the top of every class in her department had been a genuine shock - she literally hadn't been able to speak for hours. The fact that he has a face like _that_ is like a cherry on top of a cake that already has plenty of cherries.

Bella isn't vain, not about her looks or someone else's. She doesn't even put much stock in physical attractiveness, either - all people are beautiful in their own ways, even if those ways don't particularly matter to her. Bella cares more about the _person_ and Leah knows that. All this teasing about Masen Cullen is just that - teasing. Harmless, but also somewhat irritating given the topic.

She tries not to be too sensitive about it. Bella knows - she _knows_ \- she can be touchy about these kinds of things. It's mostly because she doesn't seem to place the same value on physical attraction as her peers, which makes her feel awkward when the topic comes up. She has eyes and she can appreciate objective beauty - but when it comes to the subjective part of it, where her own personal preferences should matter, she doesn't seem to have any predilection. It simply doesn't matter to her, not when personality is so much more important. It's why she gets so vexed by inane beauty contests, because it's so one-dimensional and people are so much more than what they look like.

She knows Leah understands this, in her own way. They aren't the same in this way, but they do share a similar type of queerness. High school had been illuminating, and Bella had been repeatedly grateful that her best friend was also her sister when she spent so many months being _confused_ about it all.

But right now her built-in support system is being an utter pest and Bella is losing her charitable feelings. It's mostly the hunger talking, as it continues to gnaw at her belly.

"Is that so?" Leah checks with a wondering tone.

"Yes, you troll," Bella tells her curtly.

Leah nods to herself, then tilts her head. "So, even if he was like Mike Newton?"

At this, Bella falters. "Uh…"

Alice perks up, recognizing the name with bright eyes. She's heard the stories, just like Rose has, as part of an ill-fated game of Truth or Dare when they were all drunk on wine coolers at the beginning of freshman year. "Mike Newton? As in the Mike Newton who serenated Bella with an actual boombox?"

"Mike Newton, as in the idiot boy who didn't get the hint and followed Bella around so much he almost met the end of the Chief's shotgun?" Rose queries with great humor.

"Mike Newton, as in the guy who told Bella _she_ should ask _him_ to the _Ladies_ Choice Dance?" Leah asks rhetorically. "Yes, _that_ Mike Newton."

Ugh. Dimly, Bella recalls the absolute elation she felt when she got her Stanford acceptance letter, and how happy she had been because it meant that Mike Newton couldn't follow her to California. He really had made the last two years of high school challenging. She wrinkles her nose. "Can we not talk about him?"

"Sure," Leah agrees, blithe. "We have someone else to talk about anyway."

Bella shakes her head quickly. "No, no, no!"

Rose casts her eyes to the sky, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Masen Cullen, huh? Now that you mention it, he's kind of famous on campus, right?"

Leah snorts loudly. "If you mean he's notorious for being unapproachable, then yes, he's super famous on campus."

Alice lights up in recognition again. "Oh, I've heard about him! Girls in my classes are always talking about him. He treats people like air," she says, pushing her hands forward with her palms out in demonstration, then waves her hand in front of her own face as if she can't see anything. "Just walks right by them like this, as if they don't even exist!"

"Leave it to Bella to crush on a human robot."

Bella narrows her eyes at her sister. "I am not."

"Sure," Leah says, and then she starts walking toward the dining hall again.

Bella trots after her, Alice and Rose right on her heels as they enter the crowded building, and says, "And a human robot would be an android, just so you know."

"Whatever, geek."

Bella sticks her tongue out childishly, then peels off from the group, her eyes already zeroed in on one of the food lines. "I'm getting food," she tells them as she walks away.

"Oh, wait! I'll come with you!" Alice chirps, and the tiny _click-clack_ of her kitten heels carry her to Bella's side. Alice loops her arm around Bella's elbow, a happy companion.

"Bring back something with chicken!" Leah demands as she and Rose go in the opposite direction.

"Get your own food!" Bella calls back.

"I can't! I'm doing something very important!"

"Oh, really?" Rose mutters wryly, shaking herself free of Leah's dragging hold.

"I have the solemn duty of holding our table," Leah declares, and then plops herself down at the nearest set of free chairs. Catching all of her roommates staring back at her, Leah lifts her chin haughtily. "You're welcome!"

Bella huffs. When she does return to the table, her tray laden with so much _good_ _food_, her temper has once again cooled like tepid water. She passes Leah a beef pastrami sandwich, basks in the noticeable twitch in her sister's expression, and smiles with placid good humor.

Rose and Alice watch it all and share a giggle.

* * *

L Clearwater **ʘClearlyFlimingThis**

At least she'll always have his software #tragic

Jakey Wakey **ʘjbisnowhere**

Is this a new meme?

Bella Swan **ʘthelittlecygnet**

Please don't get her started **ʘjbisnowhere**

* * *

The public chat on the NorCal server explodes when Master Culler makes his first-ever post on the online forum.

The post is a simple announcement of his intended partnership with Swansong, which is met with a mixture of shock, amazement, and a profound sense of intimidation. The comments range from gushing admiration on Master Culler's gameplay, genuine congratulations on snagging one of the top-ranked duelists for a wife - Bella bristles at that title - and envy that Swansong isn't on the market anymore. And then there is the speculation - so much speculation.

What will this alliance do for their server? Are they intending on participating in the inter-server competition? Does this mean Swansong really is a woman? Is Master Culler playing a long game nobody knows about? How does Relentless feel about Swansong moving up to a better-ranked spouse?

Bella avoids the forum like the plague after a single skim, but the public chat on the game is just as bad. She ends up changing the settings for her private chat to require an acceptance for new private chats, and then closes out the public chat altogether.

She sighs, tapping her lip as she sits at her computer Saturday night, the dorm around her quiet with all her roommates out with their own plans. When she agreed to be Master Culler's in-game spouse, she had no idea it would be like this, which is terribly naïve of her.

And then there's Janeway and her indignation.

**《 Janeway:** I cant believe you didn't tell me

**》Swansong:** I didn't think it was that important

**《 Janeway:** not important?

**《 Janeway:** NOT important?

**《 Janeway:** let's set aside that you've pinned down the no. 1 player and the greatest mystery our server has ever seen

**《 Janeway:** what about the fact that we're friends?

**《 Janeway:** didn't you think I would care?

Bella feels a stab of guilt. While this is just a partnership to her, she still should have shared the news with Janeway. She shared the details with roommates who don't even game, but not with her only honest friend in the game. She feels awful - she's a bad friend.

**》Swansong:** I'm sorry!

**》Swansong:** really I'm so sorry

**》Swansong:** I wasn't thinking

**《 Janeway:** its fine

**《 Janeway:** knowing your personality it wasn't intentional

**》Swansong:** am I forgiven?

**《 Janeway:** naturally

**《 Janeway:** do I get to attend the wedding?

**》Swansong:** Its not a wedding

**《 Janeway:** kind of is

**》Swansong:** but not really

**《 Janeway:** alright fine

**《 Janeway:** do you have a dowry?

**》Swansong:** no, because I'm not a bride

**《 Janeway:** if you say so lol

Bella huffs. Checking the time, she tells Janeway good-bye and clicks over to the map. Her cursor hovers over the area where Phoenix Ridge is located, nerves nipping at her something fierce. Bella breathes out, steeling herself. She could always message Master Culler and back out - but she doesn't want to, the competitive beast hidden inside eager at the chance to test her mettle against players on other servers. If she doesn't partner with Master Culler, will she ever get a chance like this again?

Probably not.

Bella clicks her mouse, and on the screen Swansong materializes in the center of Phoenix Ridge, the eternal spring just as beautiful as it was the last time she was here. The irony doesn't escape her, of course. This is the second time she has been to Phoenix Ridge in almost as many weeks. She hadn't thought she would be back again for a long time - and yet, here she is, guiding Swansong through the rolling hills and mounds of flowers, heading straight toward Concordant Rock with a boldness that usually escapes her in real life.

There is already a small crowd of players gathered in a loose circle around Concordant Rock, about a dozen or so that - with wide eyes - she recognizes as high-ranked guild leaders, and most of the top-five players from the various ranking lists. Disbelief courses through her - are these players here as witnesses?

Admittedly, she prefers having reputable witnesses rather than the very long, very public procession through the game's high-traffic areas like Relentless and Queen Vee had done. This is better, more private. It's enough to have the announcement on the forum and for the system to announce the union, with a select few allies to act as witnesses. To do anything else is tawdry and over the top. Not exactly her style. Yes, this is the better way.

Still, she wishes she had known Master Culler was inviting other players - she would have brought Janeway along. There's nothing for it, however, because as soon as the thought occurs to her, Master Culler is sending her a message and snatching all of her attention away.

**《 Master Culler:** after you

**》Swansong:** alright

Swansong strides right up to the androgynous statue, watching as the face of Concordant Rock turns up into the slightest of smiles. Her eyes shift to Master Culler. He looks the same as always, robed in white with silver armor and weapons. Like her, he hadn't changed his character into different clothing, and she takes that as a comforting confirmation that they are very much on the same wavelength. She considers it a good omen, even as she confronts the fact that her second in-game spouse would be for a competition, and wonders what it says about her. Something good? Something bad?

Bella banishes the hesitation away. Now is not the time for overthinking or cold feet. She's already committed to this.

With that firmly in mind, Swansong reaches out to touch Concordant Rock, Master Culler following a second later. They step back together and the statue shifts, the sound of grinding stone seeping through her headphones. The statue brings its hands together, fingers woven, and turns its smiling face down to them as a gold-lined dialogue box appears on the screen.

**Do You Consent to Union?**

Swansong selects _Yes,_ and waits for Master Culler to do the same. When he does, the stone statue shifts again, this time stepping back with its arms raised over its head, as if in glorification.

**Master Culler and Swansong Have Solidified Their Union**, comes the system announcement. **May Their Journey Be Glorious With Victory.**

Bella smiles at the screen, just a small tilt of the lips. In the virtual world, Swansong turns to Master Culler with a bow, an automated action programmed for any union; Master Culler returns the bow. And then, before Bella can so much entertain another thought, her screen pops up with another notification.

**Master Culler Gives OP Arcane Equipment to Swansong**

Bella blinks.

**》Swansong:** what is this?

**《 Master Culler:** a token of appreciation

A token of appreciation? Bella stares at the equipment waiting to be accepted into her inventory, taking in the rich color of the armor, the boots, the cloak, and the twin daggers that pair with it. It's good equipment, leagues better than what she has, and expensive. The fact that it's OP equipment means that Master Culler crafted this himself, just like his own armor. It's one hell of a _token_ \- just by itself, it could probably get Bella on the bottom rungs on the equipment ranking, that's how good it is. She studies the stats on the equipment, assimilating how it can protect her, the properties it can boost for Swansong, and the type of damage it can lay out - and it's way too much. Bella can already see Janeway calling this a dowry!

She wants to decline - and she almost does - but…this is extremely good equipment. This is the kind of equipment that can make or break a really tough duel. Logically, she knows that this is equipment that will help them in the upcoming competition, maybe even be the thing that gives them the edge they need to win.

And she's certain, absolutely certain, that Master Culler is giving this to her for exactly that reason. They're partners now. It makes no sense for one of them to be at a disadvantage that the other can easily fix.

Swansong accepts the equipment and puts it on. The armor itself doesn't deviate from the red armor she usually wears in that it covers every inch of her character from chest to hips, a curve of leather over the tops of her shoulders, and a skirt of leather bands that touch the very tops of the matching tall boots. The color is striking, a lush violet with tones of deep reds and highlights of mauve, the metal holding all of it together as silver as the mithril Master Culler wears. Beneath the armor is a simple sheath of a dark dress that skims right over Swansong's knees, the deep red-black the same as the cloak tossed over one shoulder. The daggers, which sit at either hip, have a slight curve to their silvery blades, nearly scythes.

Looking at Swansong in this new armor, she almost can't believe that Master Culler made this equipment himself, let alone the fact that he made this equipment with her in mind. It's something she would have picked out herself if she could afford equipment of this quality, and to think it's been customized just for Swansong - it really is too much. She's almost speechless for it.

**》Swansong:** thanks

**《 Master Culler:** it's my duty

Bella frowns at the screen. His duty? That's an…odd way to put it. But then again - master players and their eccentricities. She supposes she'll have to get used to it.

Thinking quickly, Bella scrolls through her inventory. She doesn't have anything nearly half as valuable or helpful to give Master Culler in return, except for one thing - and even then, its value is mostly in the fact that it's difficult to make.

**Swansong Gives Heavenly Restorative Potion to Master Culler**

Master Culler accepts her potion much faster than she accepted his equipment, cluing her in to the fact that she had been overthinking it, letting Janeway get into her head. The restorative potion is a creation of her own, a strong enough brew of a certain combination of medicines that can bring a player back from the brink of death - useful for challenging dungeons or boss fights that make players repeat the entire quest if lost. Master Culler is skilled enough he probably won't have any cause to use something like that, but it's the literal least she could do.

**《 Master Culler:** thank you

A wry smile crosses Bella's face as she taps out her response.

**》Swansong:** just doing my duty

Bella laughs quietly to herself, then sits back with a relieved sigh. It's done.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter just...kept getting longer and longer and it wouldn't stop? And lots of stuff happened, tons of relevant details for later chapters! Anyway! Next two chapters are going to be social media interludes, so pay attention to the posted dates!**

Handles:

Swansong is Bella Swan

thelittlecygnet is Bella Swan

Sleep Talker is Bella Swan

Relentless is yet to be revealed

Queen Vee is yet to be revealed

Master Culler is yet to be revealed

aliceseesyou is Alice Brandon

Short Cake is Alice Brandon

ClarityIsClear is Leah Clearwater

ClearlyFilmingThis is Leah Clearwater

Paparazzi is Leah Clearwater

byanyothername is Rose Hale

Thorny is Rose Hale

Janeway is yet to be revealed

jbisnowhere is Jacob Black

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	9. twitch live stream: schooling seth

[Twitch - Live Stream]

**Swanning  
**Just Chatting

(The screen flickers to life with a cascaded view; on the top right corner is a square displaying a carefully organized desktop screen, while the majority of the image is dominated by a web-cam view of a girl. She is young, probably just out of her teens, with a sprinkling of freckles right over the bridge of her nose and dark hair piled on top of her head, her green eyes arresting. She wears a comfortable white hoodie, the sleeves bunched at her elbows.

She smiles at the camera and at the growing list of viewers. The smile is soft, a little awkward, and accompanied by a wave at the screen. "Hey, guys! This is Swanning and it's another Saturday. I hope everyone had a good week. I, for one, could really use the time to decompress, so here we go."

Swanning pauses, fiddling with something on the computer, and then the cascading windows switch. Now, the image of Swanning is at the top right of the screen, while the rest of the window is the view of the desk top screen. A white arrow-head cursor weaves through program icons and selects one.

Swanning talks as the game loads. "Ah, you might have noticed I've categorized this stream as _Just Chatting_. I know I don't do it often, but I had a request," she tells the viewers. "I'm pulling up my Halo account right now. My little brother - you'll see him in a second, his handle is Cleareth - needs some help. He can't seem to get past this level…"

Swanning trails off, her eyes flickering to a lower portion of her screen. It's probably the live chat, which scrolls up the left-hand side on a transparent black-drop.

**/pedro/** big sis to the rescue!

/**q_ed**/ smart kid

/**gelder**/ I've been wanting to Halo but…

/**KLR**/ me too, didn't know you played

**/pedro/** Swanning is holding out on us

**/deardirt/** are you good here too?

Swanning's eyes flick up to the camera again after she logs into her account, the screen materializing an image of two Halo characters. One has the handle Swanning, the other is called Cleareth.

Her eyes squint in thought. "Am I good at Halo? I'm decent, probably, but it's been a while since I played," she confesses. Swanning dons a sleek blush pink headset, which cups around her ears and shows off a cute sticker of a sloth pressed onto the side. Off-screen the clear sounds of a clicking mouse and tapping keys can be heard. "Let me just familiarize myself with the controls real quick. If I remember right, it goes something like…"

Swanning trails off, but her character on the screen erupts into a series of fast maneuvers - jumping, flipping, running, ducking. She rotates quickly through her weapons, re-learning their controls and re-loads. Swanning hums, even as the live chat gets giddy.

/**q_ed**/ wowowowow

**/KLR/** lol Swanning is always good

**/ratherbealone/** the fuck?

**/deardirt/** how is her maneuvering that good on HALO?

**/deardirt/** how is this possible

**/pedro/** this is great lol

Swanning reaches up to adjust her headset, swinging down a little mic in front of her mouth. "Seth, can you hear me?"

"_This is embarrassing,"_ comes a disembodied voice. It must be Swanning's little brother, the guy who is playing Cleareth. His voice sounds young, an easy tenor that is tight with mortification.

Swanning blinks, a crinkle on her brow. "You wanted help," she reminds him.

"_Not like this! I didn't think I would have to participate_."

"We learn by doing," Swanning says firmly. On the screen, Swanning's character circles around Cleareth's, gun hoisted on her shoulder. "One time offer, little brother. Take it or leave it."

There is a groan, and then a grudging tone. "_Leah is a bad influence on you."_

Swanning grins, an open expression rarely seen on her streams.

**/KLDR/** best stream ever

**/pedro/** wow such wholesome content

**/deardirt/** siblings be like that

Swanning doesn't seem to pay the chat or her brother any mind. She clicks her mouse and on the screen the mission parameters pop up, along with the game map. Swanning's expression turns serious as she does a quick examination. "Alright, let's see the objective…okay - and here's the map." Swanning pauses, her brows raising slightly. "Huh. Yeah, I see that tricky part, Seth. Right here? That's tough?"

"_Right?"_ comes a plaintive whine. "_Help me, help me!"_

"I am!"

/**q_ed**/ been on this level before, yeah its tricky

**/gelder/** looks like it sneaks up on you

/**q_ed**/ it does

/**q_ed**/ like you see it on the map but when you get there its shady as fuck

/**KLR**/ I hate that

/**q_ed**/ took me a like 12 tries

Swanning doesn't look fazed. She closes out the map and trots her character forward. "Shouldn't be too difficult," she tells the viewers. "Ready, Seth?"

_"Lead the way,"_ her little brother says over the mic. _"I'll shadow_."

There is a lazy, confident, terribly attractive tilt to Swanning's lips. She launches her character into action and says, "Naturally."

What follows is what can only be loosely described as a tutorial. Sure, Swanning devotes her time to explaining the traps and tricks of the mission, and giving advice as to why using one weapon or method is better than the other. She fields Seth's questions and guides Cleareth toward the objective. And while it's clear that Swanning is using this as a teachable moment for her little brother, it's equally as clear that she is being incredibly casual about the whole thing.

Most of Swanning's tutorials are like this. She really does try to hand out helpful pieces of techniques, which are certainly helpful, but all of her regular viewers keep coming back for one reason - to marvel at the skill. There are some viewers who think Swanning is actually a professional gamer, the kind of beta-tests new games before they're released. With Swanning's level of skill, it isn't difficult to believe.

It takes Swanning less than ten minutes to hurdle through the mission that had given her little brother so much trouble. At the end, she sits back with a shrug. "That wasn't so hard, Seth. I don't see what the big deal is."

There is silence, and then a gusty exhale. "_You just - you - Ugh! _"

"You're welcome, little brother," Swanning says sweetly, and Seth curses over the mic.

Meanwhile, the live chat erupts with sensational commentary.

/**ratherbealone**/ one try….

**/gelder/** she did it in one try?!

**/deardirt/** omg

**/KLR/** holy shit

**/pedro/** just when I thought I couldn't be more impressed

**/ratherbealone/** Swanning needs a goddamn shrine

Swanning clicks her mouse a few times, and once again the cascaded images on the screen switch again, putting the girl at the forefront. She has moved her headset to rest around her neck and is leaning toward the web-cam with a faintly amused expression. "I guess that's it for this stream, guys! I had a lot of fun schooling my little brother, and I hope everyone got to learn something. Until next time, this is Swanning signing off!"

The stream ends with another slightly-awkward wave at the viewers and a blacked-out screen.)

* * *

**A/N: Ah, our first Twitch stream. If you didn't already guess, Swanning is another handle Bella uses - all of her gaming accounts that she uses for Twitch streams are under the Swanning handle, which means that Swansong is her private and personal account. The viewers of Swanning's Twitch channel do not know that Swanning is Swansong, just to be _extra clear_. **

**Moving on! Twitch is a streaming website somewhat similar to YouTube, except that it is mostly used by gamers and for gaming tutorials, walk-throughs, and live streams. Twitch has several categories for their live streams, including a type called _Just Chatting_, which is a feature that is something like an intermission for Twitch gamers and their viewers to more directly interact. Popular Twitch channels can actually make a bit of money if viewers donate to a account. The more popular your live streams, the more money you can make from them. It's a pretty unique platform and I sincerely hope I didn't ****butcher it lol**

**Also - there is _one_ handle on the live chat that will be kind of important later. Guesses on which one it was?**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	10. swan says hgtv is a liar

**[interlude]**

Jasper doesn't _hate_ Riley, but he does think that Riley is a difficult guy to share a dorm with. As the eldest of three siblings, Jasper has been sharing his bedroom with someone else since he was five, so he should be able to cope with sharing a dorm. Except that Riley is twice as messy and loud as both of Jasper's siblings combined - and he has no concept of courtesy.

Jasper has been sexiled from his own room no less than twelve times this quarter and there are _still_ three more weeks to go. Judging by the way Bree, Riley's long-time girlfriend, is perched on Riley's lap, Jasper knows that he will be kicked out of his room soon enough. He sighs and starts gathering his study materials into his messenger bag. He needs to go to the library, anyway. Some historical texts can't be borrowed and he has a research paper to complete.

Riley chortles at his desk, Bree's fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Riley twists around, catches his roommate's eye. "Hey, General, come check this out!"

"I need to get to the library," Jasper says.

"Aw, come on! You can spare a few minutes," Riley wheedles. He wiggles with a childish whine, bouncing Bree on his lap while she giggles madly. "It'll only take a second! You _need_ to see this video my classmate put together, it's hilarious."

Jasper weighs the choice. If he leaves now, Riley will take to annoying him when he returns, which means Jasper will be dealing with an actual headache on top of tripping over Riley's general mess; if he just watches the damn video, Riley will leave him alone, maybe even for the rest of the week.

With his bag on his shoulder, Jasper shuffles over to Riley's desk, peering down at his laptop over Riley and Bree's shoulders. He ignores Riley's triumphant smile and the bold weight of Bree's eyes as she gives him a flirtatious wink.

"Leah Clearwater - that's my upperclassman - she runs this channel on YouTube that, like, documents her whole life. The shit she and her friends get into is so funny, right babe?"

Bree giggles. "Yeah, they're so funny!"

"Plus they're all so hot," Riley says bluntly, his eyes trained steadily on the video. The screen shows three girls in a dorm room, all in pajamas, as they talk about some contest; occasionally the camera angle will flip, showing a close-up of a bronze-skinned girl as she makes barbed comments. "Leah especially."

Jasper looks at the way Bree is curled up on Riley's lap. "Don't you have a girlfriend?" he asks pointedly.

Riley squeezes Bree's waist, smacking a kiss on her cheek. "Oh, please. Bree would kill me for a chance to date Leah, and I don't blame her," Riley says, wagging his eyebrows when Bree looks at him.

Jasper's skin crawls. These two are made for each other.

"It wouldn't be cheating, would it baby? If it was with Leah?"

"She can be your exception. I don't mind."

"You're the best girl, aren't you?"

"Oh, _Riley_…"

But Jasper isn't really paying attention to the couple anymore. There is one girl, the one who seems to be at the center of this video, who has snagged his attention. Riley was right in saying all the girls are attractive - but there is something about _this one_ that hooks an anchor right around Jasper's gut.

_That's a very pretty girl_, he thinks, unable to tear his eyes away. When the video ends, he actually feels disappointed, even as he makes a hasty retreat from his dorm.

And that's why, instead of studying at the library like he planned, he finds Leah Clearwater's YouTube channel, ClarityIsClear, plugs his earbuds into his phone, and begins furtively watching videos.

It's just _curiosity_. That's all.

Jasper scrolls through the videos on the channel and picks out the first one that catches his eye.

* * *

**[YouTube Video]**

Swan Says Home Improvement Shows Are Liars  
**ClarityIsClear  
**857k Views / Posted 6 years ago

(The camera bobs up and down with a rush of movement and the sound of feet thudding on wooden stairs. The camera finally slows as its holder turns a corner, stopping to view of a slim girl standing in the middle of a bright yellow kitchen, frowning, lost in thought.

The camera moves closer, close enough to capture each of the freckles on the girl's cheeks. "Bella," comes a familiar voice off-camera. "Bella, say something funny!"

Bella turns to the camera, but looks at the person who is holding it, her green gaze off-center. "What's your mom's favorite color?" she asks.

A sigh. "I don't know why I even try," says the other voice, who viewers can easily recognize as Leah Clearwater. "It's not like you're funny, anyway."

"Rude. And to think I let you use me as a documentary subject."

"Nevermind," Leah says hastily. "You're hilarious, the funniest person on the planet."

"I know," Bella says, smug as she finally spares the camera a direct look.

"What's this about a color?" Leah asks.

Bella turns around to face the kitchen again, expression thoughtful. Her hair reaches the top of her shoulder blades, the faintest curl at the ends. "I was thinking about what to do for Sue," she says. "And then I saw this kitchen…I don't know what my mom was thinking. This yellow is…"

"Eye-searing," Leah supplies helpfully. "An extremely violent yellow."

Bella nods. "Exactly."

Off-camera, Leah's voice sounds confused, even as the camera view zooms in and out at the bright_, bright_ yellow cabinets. "I don't understand what this has to do with my mom. Who cares about these cabinets? We're moving, anyway. They're about to be someone else's problem."

"I know. It's just…" Bella sighs, gesturing broadly at the cabinets. "I see this kitchen and even with the questionable shade, I still feel like my mom is here. She left a mark. Sue should leave her mark somewhere, too. And the new house is a good place to do that, don't you think?"

"I guess…"

"Think about it. I mean, even if our parents have been dating forever, this is probably going to be the only time we're going to be living together as, like, a whole family. We'll be going to college in a few years, right? And if we get into Stanford…well, that's a long way from home."

"Stop being so thoughtful," Leah scolds. "You make me look like a bad daughter."

"Leah, be serious."

"I am!" Leah exclaims.

Bella levels Leah with a _look_ over the camera. "Leah."

"Okay, okay, _fine_. You _might_ have a point," Leah concedes. There is a pause, and then Leah says, "Mom likes purple, I guess."

"Purple?" Bella's expression lightens to one of amusement. "Dad is going to love this then."

"I smell mischief!" Leah declares. "What did you have in mind?"

Bella leans toward the camera with a slight smile. "Here's what I'm thinking…"

The screen fades to black, and then brightens with a cartoon screengrab, a red tiki-wood backdrop with blocky yellow letters that read _2 Days Later. _Then that also fades, and a new segment of the video comes onto the screen.

Bella is once again in the foreground of the video, but this time she is disheveled, her clothes and arms covered in paint various shades of purple, her hair woven into a messy braid. She stands in a different kitchen than before, no curtains on the window and a stainless steel refrigerator tucked into the corner, an island countertop right in the middle. She is looking at the floor, which is covered by a stained tarp and layered with cabinet doors and buckets of paint.

Bella turns wide olive green eyes up to the camera. "This was a bad idea," she says.

Off-camera, Leah scoffs. "No shit. Painting is hard."

But Bella shakes her head, looking haunted. "It's not the painting," she disagrees. Her eyes trail from the camera, looking toward the origin of a _lot_ of sound. Bella points her finger in a direction off-screen and says, "It's _them_! They're the problem!"

Obediently, the camera pans to the side as Leah travels through an empty house, crossing through a narrow foyer and entering a large room with two picture windows on either side of a red-brick fireplace, which is half-painted a deep charcoal color. The living room is in a similar state as the kitchen, except for the four bronze-skinned teenage boys who are caught in a paint-laden scuffle. Although Bella was messy, these four boys are a _disaster_, flinging paint around and slapping each other with paint brushes or rollers.

Leah's voice can just barely be heard over the boisterous shouting. "Hey, you're the one who invited them," she says, and then turns the camera just enough to capture Bella, who is rubbing at her head and glaring at the boys in the living room.

"I thought they would be _helpful_," Bella mutters.

"You thought wrong."

The camera pans to the side again. One of the boys is holding a paintbrush to his face, a soft lilac streak painted across his cheek. He bats his eyelashes at the other three boys and puckers his lips. "Isn't this my color?"

"You look fabulous," says one.

"All the boys and girls will swoon," agrees another, who looks the youngest with soft cheeks and a slightly shorter stature. Covered in paint as he is, it takes viewers a moment to place him as Seth Clearwater, Leah's younger brother.

"I don't want them to swoon," the first boy protests. "If they swoon then they aren't looking anymore."

"But they swooned because they looked," says one boy with some confusion.

"Looking _once_ isn't enough to appreciate me, Quil."

Quil, identifiable now by the charcoal painted across his t-shirt in the shape of a star, whistles lowly. "Damn, Jake, that's some confidence!"

"What's wrong with being confident?" Jake demands, hands on his hips.

"Nothing," says the fourth boy. "Unless they look like you, that is."

"Embry!" Jake growls.

"Sick burn, bro!"

Jake, seeing the naked delight on Embry's face, throws his paint brush right at Embry. "Don't be so proud of yourself!"

Unfortunately, Jake's aim is bad, because the paint brush hits Quil in the nose instead. "Hey!"

"I didn't mean to get you!" Jake says.

Quil looks mutinous, bending down to scoop the brush back up. "Well, you did! Take that!"

Quil and Jake end up in a war of retaliation, slapping each other with paint-coated hands, while Embry watches and laughs in the background. Seth, for his part, tries to get between them and winds up with both sides of his face covered in paint, cheeks squished together.

Seth blinks, and then he shouts, "I'll kill you!"

"Not if I kill you first!"

"You mean not if I kill _you_ first!"

Embry wheezes, laughing so hard his face turns red, hands clutching at his stomach.

Seeming to have had enough, Bella stomps her foot and raises her voice. "Stop! No throwing paint in the house!"

"Yeah," Leah chimes in from behind the camera. "Take that shit outside."

Seth is the first to pale, looking between the two girls. "They have their She Hulk faces on..." he loudly whispers to the other boys.

That's all it takes for the boys to vacate the house, pushing and shoving each other out the front door, and then yelling at each other in the front yard.

"Excellent solution, Leah," Bella says with a deadpan expression.

"I thought so," Leah says proudly.

Bella chews on her bottom lip, casting her eyes around the room. "Now what are we going to do?"

"Chill out," Leah says soothingly. "This is all fixable."

The video fades to black a third time, and once again that cartoon screengrab, this time the blocky yellow letters reading _Six Hours Later_. When the screen fades back to the video, it shows an image of Bella lying on the floor on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She is covered in twice as much paint as before, all of it dry and flaking off her skin and clothes.

The camera moves above her in a wide circle, taking in the exhaustion on Bella's face. "Hey," comes Leah's voice, followed by a sockless foot prodding Bella's arm. "Hey, are you alive?"

"It's done," Bella says hollowly. "It's finally done."

"Uh huh. It was much easier after we banished the boys."

"Is it really done?"

"Yep."

Bella nods, silent. And then she sits up and bursts out with a whine. "It was so much _work_! It took _forever_!"

"Aren't you being a little dramatic?"

"I am _tired,_" Bella declares, her face crumpling into an expression of distaste. "And I've been _lied to_ by home improvement shows. HGTV is a dirty, rotten liar!"

Leah snorts. "That's HGTV for you."

"I'm never doing this again," Bella says seriously. She looks up at the camera, a stubborn set to her jaw. "Leah, promise me you won't let me do something like this again."

Leah's hand comes into view, her skin just as covered in paint as Bella's, and pats the top of Bella's head. "Don't worry," she says with poorly concealed amusement. "The next time you get an idea into your fool head, I'll be happy to remind you of _all_ your mistakes."

"You're _so_ kind," Bella says sarcastically.

"I know, right?"

Bella groans and flops back onto the floor. She can be heard muttering _never again _as she looks up at the ceiling. But soon enough the camera is turning away, panning through the empty house. This time there are clear improvements; the brick of the fireplace is coated in charcoal; one living room wall is deep aubergine, the others a dove grey; the grey continues into the foyer and the kitchen, where it compliments the white backsplash; the cabinets are two-toned, a muted plum on the shelving and a soft, grayish lilac on the doors. Then the camera travels upstairs, peeping into the bathroom and bedrooms to show the entire home continues this theme of greys-and-purples.

"It all came out really nice," Leah says behind the camera. "I wonder if Mom will like it?"

Leah goes back down stairs and takes the camera for another spin in the foyer - the camera spins, and spins again, and spins a third time -

And then a middle aged woman with pretty features and dark deepest eyes is standing in the foyer, her hands over her mouth. Over her shoulder a moving truck can be seen, along with the familiar faces of four teenage boys lugging around boxes. Bella must be standing beside Leah, because the woman says, "Oh, _girls_," as she brings them into a hug.

The camera feed ends with a pause, and then a final fade to black.)

* * *

_It's just curiosity, Jasper Whitlock. Just curiosity_.

He tells himself that he's only watching because the videos are funny and edited well. He tells himself it's a way to relax so he can study better later. He even tells himself that he's not watching because of _that girl_, but because the videos themselves are interesting, working more like the documentaries he loves to watch when he has free time.

These are all excuses, and they grow more flimsy as he zeros in on all the videos that feature her - Bella Swan.

Jasper's eyes linger on Bella's face as she laughs in a video, and swallows.

"Well," he says under his breath, scratching at his chin. It's late now, his entire afternoon swallowed up from watching _her _videos. "She goes here, doesn't she?"

It can't be too hard to find Bella Swan - for the sake of _curiosity_, of course.

* * *

**A/N: Ah, if you had Spongebob Squarepants flashbacks when the _2 Days Later_ and _Six Hours Later_ came along, then you know your memes. If not, it's still funny anyway. Fans of the show should know who Jasper is meant to be - but be forewarned that I have taken _great_ liberties with that particular storyline. **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	11. chapter 6

**[chapter_6]**

Emmett's expression is, at best, _dazed_ when he shuffles into the dorm, the door behind him left open until Peter trots in after him, stars in his eyes as he bumps the door shut with his hip. Looking between the two of them, it's obvious that _something_ has happened on their trip to the library - but their reactions are so vastly different that Masen can only brace himself.

He knows it very well, this feeling. Nonsense is about to happen. It's impossible to not be able to sense it after spending his entire college life rooming with either Emmett or Peter. He wisely saves his work and then jots down where he left off in his coding in a leather-bound notebook he keeps with him at all times. The blue ink of his favorite pen bleeds into the page just a bit, the side of his pinky smearing the note as hurries to get his last thought down before the inevitable interruption begins.

_Just in the nick of time_, he thinks as an explosive sigh sounds from Emmett's side of the room. "I talked to her," he says dreamily. He's laying on his back, hugging his pillow to his chest with the dopiest lovesick look on his face. Masen immediately knows who he's talking about. "She looked at me."

Peter laughs. "You mean she glared at you."

Emmett sits up, throws his pillow at Peter, who dodges it. The pillow hits the back of the door with a _thump_, smack in the middle of Albert Einstein's poster. "It's the _same thing_ because it means she _looked at me_," Emmett says forcefully. He looks toward Masen, seeking affirmation. "Right, Masen?"

Masen does not want to contribute to this conversation. He never wants to contribute. He would much rather talk about something else, or not talk at all, but he _does_ care for his friends. They're the only people he's ever met that appreciate him for himself. If appreciating them in return means submitting himself to asinine conversations, then so be it.

Masen dips his chin, sitting back in his desk chair with his fingers woven over his stomach. "It's an improvement," he says honestly. Usually Rose Hale doesn't even give Emmett the time of day, let alone look at him long enough to categorize it as a _glare_. Yes, that's certainly some kind of improvement.

"Don't ask him," Peter says with a shake of his head, jerking his thumb at Masen. "He can't relate. When _aren't_ girls looking at him?"

Masen says nothing. There's really no need. He'll save his words for when they'll be heard.

Emmett is quick to respond. "That's irrelevant. I'm in unrequited love and my goddess _looked_ at me today. Maybe next time she'll even tell me to get lost!"

Masen recalls the last time Emmett had come back to the dorm after running into Rose Hale at the library; that time Emmett said the same thing. It's a strange goal to have, he thinks, wanting to be verbally rejected by an infatuation.

"I thought you called it worship?" Peter asks.

"Obviously it's both, you plebeian," Emmett sneers. He jabs his finger at Peter with warning. "Today is the best day of my life and you will _not _ruin it for me."

Peter points back at Emmett, wagging his own finger. "Fuck off, today is the best day of _my_ life and _you_ will not ruin it for _me_."

Masen thinks the two of them point way too much to be considered polite. Of course, raised under the hawkish eye of Grandfather Cullen, he might have a slightly different understanding of what constitutes _polite_ by his own generation.

Seeing the offense on Emmett's face and the challenging expression on Peter's, Masen suppresses a sigh. Where is Alistair when he needs him? Catching up on sleep, probably, that damn insomniac. Masen has many _regrets_ about switching roommates with Peter as a favor. Emmett is a good person, but he's loud all the time, even snoring like a beast at night. If not for Masen's general constitution, he might be as sleep deprived as Peter was last year. In a perfect world, Masen would be rooming with Alistair or Peter, who at least can be quiet for sustained periods of time - but this was the only possible arrangement, because Peter is unable to sleep with Emmett in the same room and Emmett gets into too many spats with Alistair if unsupervised. This way was the only path to some kind of peace for everyone.

And for Masen, who needs his friends and business partners to be productive, peace is absolutely necessary.

But that doesn't mean Masen doesn't daydream about having his own room. Or a quiet roommate. Or at least a wall between him and the chaos. _Soon enough_, he thinks, his mind briefly flicking to the lease agreement sitting in his email, waiting to be negotiated and signed.

Emmett scoffs. "How is it _your_ best day?"

Peter crosses his arms over his chest and lifts his chin. "You might not have been paying attention, but your so-called goddess was there with a friend."

"She was?" On the tail of Emmett's question is a suspicious look, a hint of jealousy hiding around his gills. "Wait, _what friend_?"

Peter's chin lifts even higher with his pride. "Who else but the current campus beauty? The belle of our department two years running, the girl with the highest test scores in her class, proving once and for all that techy girls can be competent _and_ beautiful? _That_ friend, standing right in front of my face, with _her_ face looking like her face…"

Peter's wistful sigh is drowned out by Emmett sucking his teeth. "I didn't see anyone else," he says.

"You blind fool."

"My goddess is the only one that matters! My eyes are only for her," Emmett says shamelessly.

"Your loss then." A wide grin, equally as shameless, lights Peter's expression. "She really is _so_ cute in person. Have you seen her, Masen? Don't you think so?"

Masen stares at Peter blankly, his mind equally a vast wasteland of _not knowing_. He knows Peter is speaking words, probably words that even make some iota of sense to him, but for all of Masen's intellect he cannot suss the meaning. He has no earthly idea what or who Peter is talking about.

His lack of understanding must be obvious, because Peter rears back in surprise, almost stumbling over his own feet. "Masen? Don't tell me you don't know about the contest…?" Peter throws Emmett a wide-eyed look of disbelief. "H-how is that _possible_? How can he _not know_?"

Emmett shrugs, broad shoulders rolling beneath a blue plaid shirt, the collar done all the way up the neck. "You can't be that surprised, Pete." Emmett jerks his chin toward Masen. "Mr. Robot over there doesn't know about these things. He doesn't care about the finer things in life, like _vacations_ or _women_."

Peter is swiftly shaking his head, fumbling to pull his phone out of his pocket as he hastens to Masen's side. "Well, whatever, you can't be ignorant about this! Here, Mase, look at this-"

Masen ignores the screen being thrust in his face, slowly pushing Peter's hand aside so he can see his own laptop. "I don't care about it," he says calmly.

"But you have to see her! Look, _this_ is Bella Sw-"

"Don't care."

Emmett falls off the bed laughing once he catches sight of Peter's gobsmacked face.

Masen couldn't care less. As far as he's concerned, he's already taken - there is only one girl has his attention, and he knows he will find her - in the flesh - soon enough.

* * *

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete**

Some of you don't know ANYTHING about ANYTHING and it shows

Em for MC **ʘ****mathmagician**

We been knew, pete

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete**

**ʘ****mathmagician ****ʘ****ratherbealone **Who will tell **ʘ****maestro**? Volunteers?

Em for MC **ʘ****mathmagician**

Hard pass **ʘ****peteypete**

Alistair the Recluse **ʘ****ratherbealone**

Don't involve me **ʘ****peteypete** I don't even know what's happening, thank God.

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete**

**ʘ****maestro **I got to do everything in this goddamn house!

Masen Cullen **ʘ****maestro**

Stop tagging me

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete**

The fucking audacity? Fine! **ʘ****maestro **can keep his ignorance!

* * *

They have dragged the rickety card table into the middle of the dorm room, each of their laptops crowded together with a collection of beef jerky, chips, and canned drinks that Emmett had scrounged together from the hoard they all know he keeps under his bed. The set up brings back fond memories of LAN parties when he was a teenager and his only real friends he had were the gamers he would meet up with at gaming parties. Masen collects his preferred snacks, sets them on his lap, and sits back to watch his friends with a placid sort of amusement.

Peter is complaining that there are no Cheetos, which makes Emmett get on his case about how bad cheese dust can be for a keyboard. Alistair, tone as deadened as ever, bemoans a lack of nachos.

Emmett shakes his head at them. "Heathens, the both of you," he says accusingly. "Don't you know the cardinal rule of computer snacking? Keep it _clean_."

"This is rich coming from the guy wrist-deep in a bag of chili cheese Fritos," Alistair says with a raised brow. "And is that _bean dip_?"

"How are Cheetos _more messy_ than _that_?" Peter demands.

"Hypocritical," Masen murmurs, a slight tilt to his lips.

Emmett looks at Masen with the greatest expression of betrayal. "_Now_ you decide to contribute?"

Masen rolls his shoulders.

"This is bullshit!," Emmett says explosively. But he does not find much sympathy from his friends, as Peter has now torn into a bag of corn-nuts and Alistair is slurping an energy drink that, as they all know, will not give him any additional energy. Masen, for his part, is concentrated on logging onto his Dawn of Warcraft account. When Emmett sees that he is not getting the reaction he was looking for, he deflates and sullenly shovels chips into his mouth.

The intro for Dawn of Warcraft flashes across Masen's laptop screen. Each time he watches the game load, he feels a complicated mixture of nostalgia and yearning - nostalgia because this game has been his refuge for so long, and yearning because Masen wants to make something _better_. He wants to make a game that revolutionizes the entire industry, a game that redefines what a good MMORPG is, and completely innovates the current capabilities of technology. He wants to take what is already great and make it better.

The game loads his master account. It's just his imagination that his white-robed character looks as excited to meet with his in-game spouse as Masen feels. He's projecting, of course. Unlike the characters he plans to design, the avatars on this game aren't expressive at all. He double checks the equipment he has on his character, then loads to his last save.

Master Culler appears in the Tyndall Forest, a wide span of bluish forestry filled with sudden gorges, fallen trees, and sweeping rivers flowing south toward places with higher populations. Just off the forest is Dall Town, a village of NPCs that deliver quest instructions for many of the quests that happen in the northern region of the map. Master Culler hasn't needed to visit Dall for over a year, having completed all the current quests loaded on the master game.

Swansong is waiting at the agreed coordinates, the avatar dressed in the equipment he gave to her. He wonders if she knows he made that equipment specifically for her, tracking down rare materials from dungeon bosses to forge something with her current capabilities in mind. Does she see how this armor bolsters her weak points? Does she understand that he gave her this equipment for more than one reason? Not just for the upcoming competition, but because he thinks she deserves it?

Never more has Masen wanted to pick another person's brain before. Swansong calls to him in so many ways he can hardly fathom it - and all from a single glimpse of a girl's back, all because he could see her skill. Part of him is hesitant, wondering how much he has projected onto her. From observing Swansong's gameplay, he imagines that she has a deft intelligence, that she is diligent, that she can think on her feet. But these are all assumptions.

What is the real girl like? What are the dimensions of her personality? Her goals and her dreams?

Masen can only imagine, because he does not know who she is - the only name he has is her handle.

But if there is one irrational thing Masen believes in - if there is one thing Grandfather Cullen hadn't managed to stomped out of him, the way he had ironed out so many other things - is the fact he believes in serendipity. He found this girl once by chance; he will find her by chance again.

Masen observes as Swansong seems to be finishing one of her daily quests - hunting pheasants by the looks of it - with a faint tilt of his lips. His own daily quests are stacked up on each other; after all, daily quests are mostly for the benefit of a guild, or to give players the ability to make trades with goods in the game. Master Culler has no need for hunting and gathering, not unless he's looking for something in particular and he can kill two birds with one stone. Watching Swansong commit to her daily quests, he feels inspired to do the same.

But another time. Certain people are getting impatient.

Behind Master Culler appear three other players. He knows them well, but he wonders if Swansong has hard of them. Each of them is ranked on one list or another, perhaps not as high as him, but usually within the top ten.

"Equipment looks good," Peter says around a mouthful of chips. "Can't believe it only took you a week to make. What, do you just have rare materials laying around your inventory?"

"Mm."

"That is not an answer," Peter says.

"Did you really think he would tell it to you straight?"

Peter sulks for a minute before a devilish expression crosses his face. He dusts his fingers off, swiping them across the front of his cargo shorts, and then sets his fingers to the keyboard. On the screen, Pestulent, a Monk class Draenei dressed in green armors, struts through the forest. Peter types on his screen, opening up a closed group chat for their five players.

《 **Pestulent**: hey hey hey!

《 **Pestulent**: if it isn't our first lady, the great Swansong

Swansong doesn't answer in the group chat. Instead, she opens a private chat directly to Master Culler. Masen tramps down on his smugness when Peter realizes that Swansong is not going to answer him and pouts at the laptop.

》**Swansong**: these are your teammates?

《 **Master Culler**: yes. Introductions?

》**Swansong**: please

"Introduce yourselves," Masen says to the room at large. He sits back in his chair, helping himself to a chunk of beef jerky while his friends send a rapid series of messages to Swansong. On the screen, Swansong is surrounded by the three other players. Pestulent jumps up and down in front of her, likely trying to irritate her into initiating a duel, although Swansong does not bite the bait. Pythagoras, a Rogue class Worgen dressed in blue armor, demonstrates his axe prowess, while Hermit, a Paladin class Dwarf stands sedately in front of Swansong and sends a single message in greeting.

To the group chat Swansong says _hello_ and _nice to meet you_ and _I look forward to raiding with you_. And then she switches to the private chat and the terrible greedy beast making a home for itself in his chest rumbles, pleased.

》**Swansong**: why not make a guild?

_A good question_, Masen has to admit. Although guilds are usually much larger, it's true that there are some loopholes that allow guilds to be smaller collections of players - sub-guilds, almost. But their group hasn't ever been interested in it. For one, being in a guild can narrow down the types of raids players can participate, with some raids only allowing one guild to try at a time. Not being in a guild gives a player more freedom, but also less support. The sole exception to playing outside of a guild is having an in-game marriage, a partnership that supersedes a guild. He suspects Swansong already understands all of this, belonging to a top-notch guild herself and knowing the restrictions placed on her playing - all she wants to know is _his_ personal reason for not creating a guild.

So he returns her question with one of his own.

《 **Master Culler**: why be tied down?

》**Swansong**: fair point

Knowing that Swansong is part of a guild, Masen wonders if she has ever considered leaving her guild. Will she, now that she is allied with him? She didn't when she was allied with Relentless, but Masen can't quash the idea that he - Master Culler - is _different_ than Relentless. He thinks he wants to be. He has plans on how to make himself be.

But these are thoughts for the future. For now, it is enough to watch Swansong and his closest friends interact. He is keen to see how their personalities mesh. Peter, in particular, has a way of teasing reactions out of people, and Masen is curious enough about his new in-game spouse that he lets it happen without much interference. It isn't a _test_ exactly, not really.

《 **Pestulent**: hey missus

《 **Pestulent**: let me tell you about your husband okay

《 **Pestulent**: he's a beast

《 **Pythagoras**: a total monster, for real!

《 **Hermit**: he's arrogant, probably a narcissist

《 **Pestulent**: that's right!

《 **Pestulent**: he lets the game get to his head!

《 **Pythagoras**: you don't know what you've gotten yourself into

《 **Hermit**: run while you still can

Over the tops of their computers, Peter and Emmett exchange taunting grins, while even Alistair looks deeply amused by the egging of the group chat. There's a clear feeling of waiting, of wondering. Will Swansong play along?

Four computers _ting_ with a new message at the same time. Masen reads the message, then lets a sly smile cross his face.

》**Swansong**: is this what jealousy sounds like?

Peter fairly chokes on his own spit and Emmett slaps his knee as he laughs. For his part, Alistair stares as the message for a moment, then decides, "I think I like this girl."

《 **Pestulent**: NO it is NOT jealousy

《 **Pestulent**: there's no reason to be jealous of him or his massive ego!

》**Swansong**: I see :)

《 **Pythagoras**: whyyyy

《 **Pythagoras**: she's just like HIM

《 **Pythagoras**: there's two of them now

《 **Pestulent**: two conversation assassins

《 **Hermit**: one word and we're dead

《 **Hermit: **I like it

《 **Pestulent**: I want a refund

"Get a new wife," Peter demands. "This one has too much - too much…_something_!"

Masen does not even dignify that with a response.

《 **Master Culler**: stop messing around

《 **Master Culler**: did you want to run a raid?

》**Swansong**: I have some time

》**Swansong**: let's set a record

"_Let's set a record_," Emmett echoes. "She says it so casually, like that's something that people can just decide to _do_."

"Maybe she can," Alistair says. "She's higher than you on the dueling ranking."

Peter chortles. "Man, Emmett isn't even _on_ the dueling ranking anymore!"

"Shut up!"

"No, _you_ shut up!"

The chaos unfolds around him and on the screen, but all Masen can feel is a sense of contentment. It's just as he thought - Swansong _fits_, with his friends, with the game, with himself.

Won't it be wonderful when she fits in other places of his life, too?

* * *

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete**

How can he not know about the top beauties of the school? Someone has to correct this travesty. I have to tell him. I have to I have to I have to I have to

Em for MC **ʘ****mathmagician**

Good luck comrade **ʘ****peteypete**

Alistair the Recluse **ʘ****ratherbealone**

**ʘ****peteypete **is the bravest soldier

* * *

The Emergent Games Conference happens on a Saturday afternoon at a tall, towering building in San Francisco's business district. Still living out of the dorms, the founding members of Midnight Sun have spent a morning rising at the crack of dawn, finalizing their presentation, suffering through Masen's triple-check, and finally boarding a BART train. The rail carries them southwest to San Francisco in under an hour, but the trip is filled with Peter repeatedly and loudly voicing his anxiety about public speaking.

Nobody bats an eye, not even the other passengers. Peter finds no sympathy here. Masen silently passes him the talking points printed onto notecards by his own hand and instructs Peter to memorize them. Peter whines, but complies anyway.

Mentally, Masen feels that he is prepared for the conference. He has put a lot of effort into making them appear _more_ than new graduates. Their start-up is sleek, a well-oiled machine, and their output can rival anything that massive corporations with dozens of teams can create. He is reasonably confident in how this conference will go, but there is always room for error and that must be accounted for.

In Emmett's words, they need a "slam dunk" if they want to bag the kind of investors they need to reach their bigger goals. They've already been doing recruiting, tapping the shoulders of their own upperclassmen and some of the more brilliant minds in their graduating class. Midnight Sun is a start-up with a bright future and Masen knows success is right around the corner. All he wants is for that success to happen without any missteps, and for that he needs to be diligent, on top of his game, fully keyed in. He has to be the spare heir Grandfather Cullen never asked for, the one who sits down with his brother to help complete some of the company's workload when Carlisle's residency takes up too much of his time.

Masen will rise to the occasion. He always does.

They disembark the train, huddle into an Uber, and arrive at the glass-front building teeming of people who are potentially in charge of their dreams. The four of them stand shoulder to shoulder, Peter nervously swiping his hands on the seat of his pants, Emmett fiddling with the skinny tie around his neck, Alistair tucking lank hair behind his ears. Masen eyes their reflections, the new jeans and sport coats, the crisp button-downs and borrowed ties, the youthful faces. His fingers curl more firmly around the leather computer case he carries.

He takes the first step, leading the charge in life as much as he does in the game. The others follow.

Inside, the conference is a league of confined chaos. There is the usual tedium of registration and ID cards hung on lanyards around necks, followed by directions on where they should sit in a room crowded with circular tables in front of a medium-sized projector screen. Although they are giving a presentation, their call is later in the line-up and as a start-up they do not have the clout more established companies have to sit in the front where the investors are located. It's a tactical disadvantage, and one that Masen can only hope to overcome by overwhelming the audience with their ideas.

His confidence does not waver. He has anticipated all of this, planned it all out and researched everything to the last detail. There is not a name or face in the room that he does not know. He locks on to his targeted investors, nudges Peter to point them out, and emphasizes - for the final time - that Midnight Sun is speaking to _those_ half-dozen people.

This is their best shot.

"Don't drink too much water," Alistair mutters, pulling Peter's glass away from him between presentations. Then he taps the top of Emmett's hand, halting the sound of Emmett's fingers dully drumming on the cloth tabletop. "And stop that."

At the same time, two voices hiss a low response. "I'm nervous," Peter and Emmett say, only to shoot each other surprised looks.

Alistair sighs, long suffering. He is as at-ease in this situation as Masen, likely because the two share a similar background. Formal, business-oriented events such as these are old hat for Masen and Alistair, who both come from families entrenched in old money and business. While the Cullens gathered their vast wealth starting during the Californian Gold Rush, Alistair's family hails from a country estate in England that is still overseeing land in place of the crown family. As a cousin of an Earl, Alistair has the freedom to choose his own path, but in return for that freedom his childhood resembled Masen's very closely - neither of them could get away from certain duties. But like Masen, Alistair has made choices to give himself independence, and he does not plan on taking advantage of the old money his family is willing to extend.

The two share a commiserating glance, and then Alistair's pale eyes turn to their companions. "All the same," he says under his breath, tone sharpened with a stronger British lilt than he usually allows to surface. "Keep your nerves to _yourself_. Have some decorum."

Emmett looks like he wants to retort, but another look from Masen keeps his mouth shut. Peter simply wilts in his chair and licks his lips, eyes darting to the stage and skittering away.

Soon enough, Midnight Sun is called forward for their presentation. Masen passes his laptop to Peter, their simulation program and presentation already cued up, and then takes his place at the podium. Seamlessly, Masen shifts into an old persona he knows well, shoulders pulled back and a neutral, amicable expression on his face. "Good afternoon. I am Masen Cullen, CEO of Midnight Sun, and on behalf of our company I would first like to say how honored we are for the invitation to this conference." Beside him, Peter has connected the laptop to the projector, and an image of their game simulation dominates the screen. "We have developed Pagan Immortals, a novel mobile game that combines the greatness of traditional slash-and-hack games with highly developed NPCs. To illustrate, please watch our demo…"

Peter taps the keyboard and behind them the screen resolves into a vibrant illustration of the Pagan Immortals gameplay. The simulation is well-polished, and objectively speaking more advanced than some of the previous presentations. As Masen and Peter switch places so that Peter is standing at the podium, Masen takes stock of the reactions of the audience, his eyes easily picking out his goal investors.

They look interested. Some are even surprised. And other investors, ones he had shelved as hard sells, look impressed. Good. Things are going well.

When the demo ends and it is Peter's turn to speak, he only stutters through the first few sentences before he hits his stride, just as Masen knew he would. Peter likes to talk more than anyone else he knows - of course a fear of public speaking would be overcome, especially if Peter is talking about something he is passionate about. As Masen moves through the presentation, the screen changing along with Peter's talking points, his confidence doubles.

The goal was to make an impression. To prove themselves. To announce themselves as a group that was innovative, even if they are green. Looking at the audience, seeing the faces of his competitors, Masen feels the same rush he gets when he beats a boss playing Dawn of Warcraft. It is victory, the kind that is so certain it can be tasted.

And at the end, when all the presentations are done and people begin to mingle, when Masen is approached by three more investors than he anticipated, all of whom want to schedule meetings with him as soon as possible, that surge of victory solidifies as something tangible in his chest. His friends exchange grins and covert fistbumps when the last of the investors depart, and Masen turns to them with his hands in his pockets, eyes alight with excitement.

"We did it," Peter whispers, a wide grin stretched across his mouth.

"Did you see their faces? They were all _whoa_ and _wow_," Emmett adds.

"It went well," Alistair agrees. He cranes his head around, taking stock of the room, and then stops when something catches his attention over Masen's shoulder. He arches a brow. "Perhaps too well," he amends.

Masen turns, sees what Alistair does, and silently agrees.

They caught the attention of the investors, but they also caught the attention of their competitors. They made an impression - not just impressive, but also a potential threat. The man heading their way is Mr. Banner of Denali Corp., a snake of a man if rumors are correct. Plain-looking, Mr. Banner presents himself as an ordinary fellow, but as the Vice President of Sales at Denali, he certainly is more formidable than he appears. His reputation speaks for itself.

Masen knows all about him and his underhanded tactics.

But he's curious and he has always believed that knowing the enemy is the best defense, so he turns to greet Mr. Banner with a palatable expression. He shakes his hand firmly when Mr. Banner introduces himself and says that Denali Corp. was very impressed by the presentation.

"You're too kind," Masen says. "We were lucky to be able to present alongside a company like yours, Mr. Banner. We know it's a rare opportunity for new graduates like ourselves."

"Ah, are you new graduates?" Mr. Banner asks, and to his credit, he _does sound_ genuinely interested. It's just that the interest doesn't meet his eyes, which are hungry and sharp, a shark searching for blood in the water.

"The graduation ceremony is in two weeks," Masen confides. "I suppose we aren't new graduates just yet."

"Close enough, close enough," Mr. Banner says quickly. "Ah, it's so delightful to know that such promising minds are joining the field. Where are you graduating from, again?"

"Stanford."

"Ah, a great school! Many excellent minds have come from Stanford," Mr. Banner says. He reaches into his pocket, passes along a small rectangular business card. "Speaking of great minds, I would like to sit down and talk with you about your mobile app - it's such a fascinating idea! Do you have time soon?"

_Not very subtle, is he_? Masen wonders, even as he makes a point of pulling out his phone and scrolling through his calendar. "Next Tuesday is open for me," he says after a moment, making sure his tone is the right balance between eager and nervous, although he is neither. Acting is merely a part of business, as he well knows.

Mr. Banner looks too triumphant, just this side of too slick. "Around three?"

"I'll see you then," Masen confirms. He waits until Mr. Banner and his two colleagues leave before turning to his friends. He takes in their expressions, the surprise and skepticism, and then he leans just close enough that they will hear the words he speaks under his breath. "All part of the plan."

Emmett's eyebrows lift. "_That_ was part of the plan?"

"Of course," Masen says. He had prepared for every eventuality.

"I don't get it," Peter says. "I thought we wanted investors."

Alistair, naturally, is the one who grasps the situation first. He sighs. "We do want investors," he tells Peter. "But we also want to know which way the wind is blowing."

"I still don't get it," Peter mutters.

Masen claps Peter's shoulder, his mouth tilting into a smirk. "Think of it like chess. We're just moving pawns."

Emmett shakes his head. "That's not helpful at all. But whatever. I trust you, Mase. You and your Machiavellian ways will see us through everything, just like always."

"Mm," Masen hums as he turns, walks out of the conference room, then out of the building and into the sun. He's touched by the trust his friends have in him, and he knows he won't let them down - not in this, not in anything that truly matters.

Masen lets the sun soak into his skin, taking a moment to breathe as his thoughts organize themselves into a new formation, new plans slotting into place.

But he wonders if any of them know how far his so-called Machiavellian ways extend - how far he is willing to use cunning to get what he wants, how patience he is willing to extend to reach his ambitions, whatever they may be.

They probably do. It isn't as if Masen has ever done anything to hide his polarizing personality, and his friends don't seem to care.

_Will Swansong care_? _What type of girl is she in real life_? For the first time, Masen regrets that he had only ever seen the back of her - after all, long brown hair and freckles aren't much to go on. He shouldn't have walked away at The Coffee Circuit without at least seeing her face.

But she must be close. She must be.

His curiosity might eat him alive.

* * *

**A/N: Did I surprise you? Remember that we only know what Masen knows, and then we only know what Bella knows - and neither of them know shit at this point. Anyway, here's a _long_ note for the chapter. What else do you have to do in the midst of...whatever the hell is happening in the world?**

**Machiavellianism is a political school of thought _and_ a part of a triad of negative personality traits in psychology. Essentially, Machiavelli is a philosopher who is associated with manipulation, deception, and the phrase "it is better to be feared than loved"; in psychology, Machiavelli is closely tied to psychopathy and narcissism. However, Machiavelli is a complex figure, and so is his controversial political philosophy. Machiavelli is commonly referred to as the "father of political science" and he had a very pragmatic approach to politics - he was a realist who understood that politicians seek power whether they are guided by morals or not. In fact, Machiavelli argued that morals have no place in politics, specifically morals related to religion or other schools of thought that do not have practical, real-world meaning in the lives of the masses. Machiavellianism is closely related to consequentialism, which is a philosophy that says the consequences of actions are the basis of right and wrong. Machiavelli was also a materialist, which is a branch of metaphysics that suggests all things, including ideas, are the product of material interactions, which means he didn't put a lot of stock into things that cannot be proven - he was a "seeing is believing" type. Machiavelli advocated for republicanism in politics, which refers to representation of people in government rather than the current political party. Machiavelli essentially believed that "the ends justify the means" in politics, but he was rather ambivalent whether the "ends" should be morally good or bad. You could say his fundamental belief was "by hook or crook" so long as ambitions were met. To that end, in psychology, people with high traits of Machiavellianism (high Mach) are associated with charisma, skills in deception, and those who are difficult to persuade but who can easily persuade others. People with Machiavellian personality traits are those who are willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want, so at best they can be described as morally ambiguous.**

**Now, whether Masen exhibits Machiavellian traits and whether those traits are a bad thing is up to you. There is a tendency to associate Machiavelli with "evil" and "corruption", but the works of Machiavelli himself are astoundingly neutral, so I tend to think of him as neutral as well. Machiavelli basically said "we do what we have to do to get what we want and survive" and followed it up with "reality and the consequences of our actions are the only things that matter". Like I said, he's a complicated figure. You can't really put him in a box.**

**Moving on!**

**LAN parties are a throwback to how gamers used to gather about 10-15 years ago when internet connections had to be shared with the same router. At a LAN party, everyone would bring their own computer and cluster off an internet connection while they all played the same RPG, usually to complete all-night campaigns or something similar. Recent developments in gaming have made LAN parties an old-school thing, but like I said, they're still around - the spirit of them continues in gaming meet-ups and live tournaments.**

**MMORPG stands for Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game, such as WOW, Skyrim: Elder Scrolls, Final Fantasy, and many, many others. MMORPG are probably the most common online games right now, and they allow for player-to-player interaction such as what has been in this story so far. Some people use the terms RPG and MMORPG interchangeably; either is technically correct in terms of how these games are constructed.**

Handles:

Master Culler is Masen Cullen

Mad Hatter is Masen Cullen

maestro is Masen Cullen

Pythagoras is Emmett McCarty

Em Likes Pi is Emmett McCarty

mathmagician is Emmett McCarty

Pestulent is Peter Charlet

Peter Panda is Peter Charlet

peteypete is Peter Charlet

(Charlet is an alternate spelling of Charlotte, which is the only Charlotte we'll be seeing in this story)

Hermit is Alistair Anderson

Squidward is Alistair Anderson

ratherbealone is Alistair Anderson

(Alistair has no last name in canon, so he gets the last name of the guy who played him in the movie)

**I can't even tell you how chuffed I am about the handles - I feel _very_ clever. Anyway, I think that's everything! As always, be brutally honest. I can take it!**

**~Rae**


	12. meet matt(e) hughes

**[Instagram]**

Meet Matt(e) Hughes!

(A post of two pictures.

The first is Rose Hale staring right at the camera, head tilted to the side, the top of a lipstick tube pressed against the bright red of her bottom lip. The corners of her mouth are pulled into the slightest of smiles, a moue of playfulness making her eyes sparkle. Her hair tumbles off her shoulders, pushed back from her forehead and curling around the crisp lapel of a denim vest.

The second is Rose Hale sitting on a red bean bag chair, leaning forward with her chin pillowed on her palms, lips puckered at the camera. She is winking in this picture, cheeks pink and skin glowing with the subtlest sparkle of highlighting pigment. Her nails are as red as her lips.)

**byanyothername** tfw you finally find the perfect no-smudge matte lipstick

#devoted #meetmattehughes #thebalm #thebalmisthebomb

Posted 1 hour ago

**Comments**

theflyestfairy matte hughes balm IS the bomb!

mathmagician yes, I am devoted to you, thank you for noticing

savethebees hey mathmagician I think the lipstick is called devoted

mathmagician I wish I could be that lipstick savethebees

Ty-Liar that's not creepy at all


	13. chapter 7

**[chapter_7]**

Bella all but drags herself into the dorm, fatigue pulling at all of her limbs. Her denim backpack slips off her shoulder, down her arm, and onto the floor with a heavy _thud_. She leans back against the door as it closes, sagging against the jackets hanging off the back of the door. She releases a long sigh and squeezes her eyes shut - she's looked at so many letter and numbers that it feels like the impressions are burned onto the back of her eyelids.

Maybe this is why she has hardly any reaction when she opens her eyes to the sight of Rose standing in front of the backdrop she uses for her Instagram posts, puckering her lips at Alice, who is taking pictures with her phone. She's too exhausted by studying that she can't summon any energy to be surprised by what is a common occurrence in the dorm.

What day is it, again? She's been studying so much for finals next week that she's lost count of the days. If not for one of her roommates regularly pushing her into the dining hall, she probably would have forgotten to eat, too. Finals are _important_. Vital. Essential. The one time she cannot afford to mess up, not even a little bit. She is striving for perfection. She has to.

The studying though - that's a necessary evil. Because of finals she has been gaming less this week, something that Master Culler understands. Apparently he's a student, too. He'd implied something about his own finals and they had arranged a time this weekend to begin training for the competition. Bella is using her time with Master Culler as a reward system. Study well, play well.

Observing her roommates, she is somewhat mystified that neither of them are studying as much as she is - even Leah is hitting the books with a certain dedication that only unearths itself at the end of the semester. Rose and Alice, on the other hand, seem to have everything well in hand.

Bella is just the slightest bit jealous. But she doesn't begrudge them, especially as she knows that Rose is using this time to earn money to put herself through school.

Bella watches from the door a moment more. "What is it this time?" she asks tiredly, managing to shuffle into the common room to peer at Rose over Alice's shoulder.

"Lipstick," Rose answers.

Ah. Well, that would explain the pucker and the brilliant crimson on her lips. Rose has managed to find a shade befitting her name and has carefully applied the color to every curve of her lips. She has cleverly paired the lipstick with a muted makeup look, champagne glitz on her eyes and cheeks so the color of her lips is obvious, unable to be missed.

As Alice adjusts the camera frame, Rose flips a cascade of beachy waves over her shoulder and presses the closed tube of lipstick against her lips. She manages to mesh a playful expression with one of seduction, an innocence that appears effortless.

Bella squints her eyes to read the label. "It's liquid?"

"And cruelty free," Rose says. She arches her brow thoughtfully, and Alice captures the image. "There's been a 175% increase in the sale of vegan makeup since 2013. Cruelty free is the way to go - this brand is clever for being openly vegan friendly."

"And even more clever to have you advertising for them," Bella notes. She is nonplussed at the seemingly random spout of facts - she would bet anything that one of Rose's final projects is exploring those types of sale analytics.

"They sent a lot of colors," Alice says. She puts down the phone and happily rummages through a box of a dozen tubes of liquid lipstick, then pulls one out to pass over. "Here Bella, this is your color. It's even subtle the way you like it."

Bella takes the tube, rolling it between her fingers. The shade is a shell pink, a soft hue maybe one shade darker than the natural tone of her lips. Alice is right - when Bella bothers to wear anything more elaborate than SPF moisturizer and tinted balm, she does prefer more subtle, natural looking products.

"Thank you," she says to both girls, tucking the lipstick away.

Rose, of course, waves her thanks away. Her attitude for the samples sent to her has always been _what's mine is yours, _a certain generosity most people don't possess. Bella is thankful all the same, even if Rose is uncomfortable hearing it.

Alice, meanwhile, has donned an exaggerated moue. "I'm so jealous of your complexion. You can wear _any color, _meanwhile I'm stuck as a winter forever," she complains. "You're so lucky."

Bella huffs a laugh. "Lucky? I can go from pale to lobster in 60 seconds flat!"

Rose snorts.

"That does sound inconvenient," Alice admits.

"You have no idea," Bella tells her, completely serious. Even now she can feel the phantom pain of the terrible, awful, horrible sunburn she had visiting her mom in Arizona one summer as a kid. She has used sunscreen religiously ever since.

Rose shifts, sitting down on the red bean bag chair that has been dragged to the corner. With the backdrop being mostly white and Rose wearing a denim vest over a white tank, the color of her lips and the bean bag are vibrant. Bella can see Alice's hand in this, the way the colors coordinate to make a statement, to draw attention. Rose looks so casually cool it's almost unbelievable.

_That's modeling, I guess_, Bella muses. More power to Rose that she's comfortable doing it. Bella can't relate at all.

"Hey, do you have time?" Rose wonders. "I know it's your time to turn into a study beast with finals around the corner, but Ali and I could use a second hand. If you want."

Bella releases a breath, a valve releasing pressure. "Honestly, a break sounds nice. If I look at another textbook I might actually cry."

Alice studies her for a moment before reaching over to pat Bella on the shoulder. "You do look a little tired, honey," she says sympathetically, tone lilted with the softest twang.

Bella's shoulders droop. "Finals are _hard_..."

And it's true - finals _are_ hard, twice as hard as midterms and twice as exhausting. But the hardest part is the pressure she puts on herself. She isn't quite a perfectionist, she doesn't think, but she does have a set standard that she _has_ to meet. It isn't a matter of wanting the best grades, but rather a matter of _needing _the best grades. The path she has chosen for herself isn't an easy one. It's demanding, time consuming, and double the workload - but it is the path she wants to walk. She likes the challenge, but the challenge is a double-edged sword. Equal risk for equal reward, except the catch is that the slightest slip means she won't be getting back on the path so easily.

Finals are hard because Bella _needs_ the scholarship that helps fund the additional classes she takes. No scholarship, no financial aid. Such is the tragic state of the American education system. This is only one of the ways she is trying to avoid a lifetime drowning in student loan debt - and it's the most important one. This scholarship is _everything_.

"The double major strikes again," Rose surmises.

Bells nods, equal parts grim and resolute.

"Does that mean you'll be doing a summer quarter again?"

"Its unavoidable," Bella says truthfully. There aren't enough hours in the day for Bella to attend classes for two majors. Her course schedule is something she spends hours agonizing over each quarter, and the only way to arrange the classes _and_ give herself enough time to live outside of the library means she takes classes year-round.

It isn't so bad, really. She gets to spread her course load over four quarters, which lightens some of the load. Working with her academic counselor, she's even managed to find elective courses that coincide with requirements for _both_ majors. All the year-round classes really mean is that, unlike her peers, Bella doesn't take the whole summer off. The payoff is worth it. If she's lucky and can keep to this pace, she might even be able to graduate a bit earlier.

"Well, I'll be here to keep you company this summer," Alice says brightly. She's rooting through the lipsticks again, comparing shades with no clear intent. "I have to make up that class from fall quarter."

Rose clicks her tongue, shaking her head with mock sadness. "You poor things. You'll be here studying while I'll be spending some quality time with the ocean in SoCal."

"Nobody likes a braggart, Rose," Bella chides.

"I disagree. Brag if you can," Rose asserts. "Being humble never got anyone anywhere."

Bella is less than surprised to hear the most confident and proud person she knows say something like this. And it isn't that she disagrees exactly, but she also can't fully support the idea. Charlie Swan raised his daughter humbly, after all, and always said that strong moral character was more impressive than temporary achievements.

To each their own.

Alice frowns at Rose, dropping the lipsticks back into the box. "Did you forget about the internship?"

Rose frowns right back. "Do you really think we'll get it?"

"It ain't over 'till the plump lady sings," Alice drawls, sugar-coated and sweet, punctuated with a little huff and a nod as if agreeing with herself.

"She does have a point," Bella says. She reaches around Alice, picking Rose's phone up and bringing the camera app up again. She points the phone at Rose, who is sending her a skeptical look. "We do still have the interview."

Alice snaps her fingers. "Speaking of the interview! Don't you think we should dress the part?" Alice's idea is met with two blank stares. She looks back at them expectantly. "You know, play up the geek girl thing? Since it's a tech company?"

"No," Rose says flatly.

It's a tone that brooks no argument, so Alice turns her round eyes to Bella, looking for support.

Bella snaps a few more pictures of Rose. "Uh…" she hedges. "Aren't I already a geek girl? Don't I already dress like that?"

Alice runs her eyes over Bella's current attire. To be fair, Bella is more ruffled than usual because of all the studying, but the fact remains that she _is_ wearing a hoodie emblazoned with various mushroom heads of _Super Mario_'s Toad character. She almost feels guilty, and maybe even a little offended, when Alice's assessment ends with a muttered, "I guess that's true…Can't get any more geeky than that…"

"The best impression is an honest one, Ali," Bella says coolly.

Bella presses her lips together, shooting a _look_ at Rose. It's a silent exchange they've all perfected to some degree - when one roommate is getting an ill-advised idea in her head, _someone_ needs to step in to be a voice of reason. Or at least attempt it.

Rose leans forward, elbows on her knees with her chin propped on the palms of her hands, and sighs. Bella quickly captures the picture, even as Rose starts to speak. "Listen to her, Ali. You don't need to play a part to get where you want to go. Just be yourself."

Alice looks between them - and if Bella didn't know her any better, she would think that Alice had been successfully convinced.

And yet she does know better, and Rose seems to feel the same way. The last picture Bella takes is Rose, winking with a conspiratorial pucker to her red lips.

* * *

Paparazzi  
Should I be concerned that  
Ali is going through your closet?  
Like  
REALLY going through it?

Sleep Talker  
What does that mean

Paparazzi  
Means have fun cleaning up this mess  
_(Picture Attachment:_  
_Clothes spilling out of the closet onto the floor,  
__clearly ransacked)_

Sleep Talker  
Brb going to cry for a bit  
(crying emoji)

Paparazzi  
Lol  
No worries  
Your mess of a closet will be here when you return

Sleep Talker  
_Read at 2:12 pm_

* * *

Bella has had the dubious privilege of being asked out by boys - and sometimes girls - all her life. It's always been something she has found to be awkward at best and uncomfortable at worst. After surviving Mike Newton at Forks High she _should_ be well-practiced at an artful rejection, but truthfully Bella _still_ stumbles over how to convey her disinterest, especially when the one asking is persistent.

Today is such a day.

Bella walks out of the library around noon, ready to follow her stomach to the nearest source of food, and almost walks right into a tall, thin boy with longish dark blond curls tucked behind his ears. He has a serious sort of face and wears rimless glasses, both hands fisting the leather backpack on his shoulders. His eyes widen behind the glasses, their color a dark indistinguishable color.

"Oh! Sorry!" she says, backing up a few steps to edge around him. He's standing in an awkward spot, right in the middle of the landing between the two sets of concrete stairs leading to the library building. She thinks, at first, that she must have not been paying attention and had almost knocked someone over.

But then he says, "No problem!" and he kind of _looks_ at her in a way that clues her in. Even before he tips his hand with his next words, Bella has a feeling she already knows what he's after. "Hey, you're Bella, right? Bella Swan?"

Bella halts and looks up at this tall stranger. "I am," she says, running her eyes over his features, trying to place him. She draws a blank. "Do I know you? I'm notoriously bad with names and faces, so I'm sorry if I'm _supposed_ to know you. I swear I didn't forget you on purpose."

Twin spots of pink appear on his face. "N-no, you wouldn't know me. I'm a freshman."

"Oh." Bella falters. Had she made a mistake in her assumption? A freshman seeking her out - maybe he's someone that takes classes at the Huang Center? She offers a polite smile. "Is a Professor looking for me? Professor Lee, maybe?"

His face grows redder. "As far as I know, no," he answers, doggedly maintaining eye contact. "I'm Jasper Whitlock, majoring in Anthropology…and I'm the one looking for you."

_So my assumption was right_, she thinks with a muted sense of despair.

"Oh. Well…Hi, then." She waits for him to say something, but he just continues staring at her, seemingly frozen by nerves. How rude would it be to just…walk away? Terribly rude. Bella can't bring herself to be so awful to a perfect stranger - she isn't sure she could even be that mean to someone she knows, either. Bella sighs. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Can I buy you lunch?" he blurts out.

Internally, Bella winces. On the outside, though, she offers a slight smile tinged with apology. "I actually have plans for lunch."

"Dinner then."

"Eating with my roommates."

"Coffee?" he tries, clearly grasping at straws at this point.

Any boldness he had in coming to find her to ask her out is swiftly slipping away, and Bella actually feels some pity for him. It can't be easy to be in his shoes. Bella knows that she could never have this much courage, not in this. She eyes him sympathetically, and her smile grows more sincere. "I'm sorry, but no," she says gently. "Please understand, I'm not interested in dating right now."

Jasper deflates. "Oh."

"Yeah…" The silence stretches, increasingly awkward when Bella's stomach audibly rumbles. She hooks her thumb over her shoulder and says, "I'll just…go now."

Jasper nods, not really looking at her anymore.

Bella eases away, casting one more glance at Jasper Whitlock and trying not to feel too bad about turning him down.

If there was anything that Renee Higginbotham and Sue Clearwater-Swan ever agreed about, it was that _no woman_ should ever feel _bad_ about rejecting a man they are not interested in - and they should never agree to date someone just because they feel sorry for them. As her mom says, _Women get into too much trouble being nice. Stick to your no_. It's probably some of the only useful advice Renee has ever given her, and she follows it heartily.

_He seems like a sweet kid_, she thinks. _He'll bounce back._

After all, it wasn't like she was _mean_ about the way she turned him down, right? She has no reason to feel bad.

Bella puts Jasper Whitlock out of her mind and follows her nose to the nearest dining hall.

* * *

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet****  
**No sleep until finals are over we die like men

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis****  
**So, how many of those espresso beans did you have?

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet****  
**All of them **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis**

Seth Clearwater **ʘ****changethisquil****  
**RIP **ʘ****thelittlecygnet**

L Clearwater **ʘ****C****learlyFlimingThis  
****ʘ****changethisquil **She fell asleep like this lmfao  
_(Picture Attachment:_  
_Bella slumped over a desk covered in books, highlighter in hand, drooling._  
_Someone has drawn a smiley face connected by freckles in black pen.)_

* * *

By Friday night, Bella finally gives up. Her brain is mush. She can't stand to look at another book, highlighter, or challenge question at the end of textbook chapters. She's been halfway monosyllabic for the entire day and Leah has started giving her these _looks_, like she's a hairsbreadth away from stealing all of Bella's study materials and locking them up for her own good.

She treats herself to a luxuriously long shower, the tension melting out of her shoulders as the soothing honey-and-lavender scent of her bathing products eases the stress from her mind. She stays in the shower until her skin is pink, takes her time rubbing lotion onto every inch of her skin, and then puts on her favorite pajamas, a white long-sleeved sleepshirt with a snoozing sloth embroidered over the pocket square. She locates her blue-light-cancelling glasses to be kind to her eyes, retreats to her bed with her laptop, and snuggles between her pillows with a pack of chocolate covered peanuts.

Already sufficiently relaxed, Bella logs onto Dawn of Warcraft, prepared to catch up on her daily quests, something easy so her mind can drift freely. She takes it as a positive sign for her plans to wind down from the week when she notes that Janeway isn't logged on - and that means there isn't any gossip floating around. What a win. Bella smiles to herself and sends Swansong through the rigors of collecting plants and hunting down rare mushrooms.

At some point, Leah slinks into the dorm, takes in Bella's makeshift fortress of pillows, and mutters, "How is _that_ relaxing?"

"I'm very relaxed," Bella says to her, eyes never leaving the computer screen. "This is the most relaxed I've been all week, maybe the most relaxed I've been in my whole life."

Leah flops onto her own bed, kicks her backpack onto the floor, and says mirthfully, "I seem to remember you being _much_ more relaxed when we accidentally ate those brownies Cousin Emily made."

Bella pauses. "That's fair."

"So, is this what you're doing all night?"

"Yep. Why? What are you doing?"

Leah groans. "I've got a goddamn study group _again_. I have to leave in, like, fifteen minutes."

"Poor Leah."

"I know, right?" Leah heaves a sigh and sits up, resigned to her fate. "Since I'm going out, I thought I'd stock up on stuff to survive next week. Requests?"

"A bunch of those Starbucks energy drinks," Bella says quickly. She pauses her control of Swansong, glancing at her sister, who is nodding in agreement. "The spicy ramen noodles, too."

"_Oh_, yes. And sunflower seeds."

"Poptarts?"

"Only if they're blueberry. Rose won't eat anything else."

"Alice likes those cherry mash things, if you can find them."

"I'd kill someone for a Payday, too," Leah says. She tugs her phone from her pocket, quickly tapping out the list of must-haves to survive finals week. A thought seems to pop into her head, because she looks up at Bella with wide eyes. "Oh, my _God_. How could we forget the danish?"

"Take my bank card," Bella tells her. "Get me all the bearclaws they have."

"Your wish, my command." Leah makes a beeline for Bella's wallet, which rests on the shelf between their beds, a simple white leather booklet with tiny cactus printed on one side. The stress of hell week must be getting to Leah too because she doesn't make any more of her normal teasing comments after she finds the card. Leah tucks the card into her own wallet, scoops up her backpack, and blows a kiss over her shoulder as she leaves the room. She closes the door behind her, leaving Bella alone with only her game as company.

Swansong finishes two daily quests and is in the middle of a third one when it happens.

At first, she doesn't notice anything is wrong. Swansong is hunting a wild boar, a low-level monster that is supposed to reward kills with skill books to bolster player skills, and barely registers the blip of another player on the edge of her area. The hunting ground is open to all players, of course, so there isn't anything unusual about seeing a fellow gamer.

What _is_ unusual is when Swansong is lining up her kill, already locked onto the target, and the other player comes out of _nowhere_ and kills her boar. Swansong's attack goes wide, and the other player turns around, dashing toward Swansong in a blatant attack.

Bella's first thought is_, This is a scrap-picker. If he kills me, he'll get my equipment_ \- Master Culler's _equipment_.

Swansong is no stranger to dueling, and manages to fend the other player off. The other player might be swift and may even be a skilled scrap-picker, but Swansong is better. She lands several hits against him, lowering his health points enough that he is forced to retreat before he dies - although he is sure to take the skill books from they prey he stole before he disappears.

Swansong is left on the hunting grounds, standing beside a boar she did not kill and without the skill books she needs to complete her daily quests. There are other players around her, those who were drawn in by the commotion, and Bella just _knows_ the public chat is already firing up about this.

Bella is fuming as she logs out of the game, flinging her glasses onto the bookshelf between her bed and Leah's. She puts her laptop at the end of her bed, rolls onto her side, and pulls her knees up to her chest, hiding herself under the covers.

She writes off the whole week as being _completely awful_ and eventually falls into a disgruntled sleep, dreams a scape of nothing but exhausted blackness.

* * *

**Dawn of Warcraft - Forum - NorCal Server - Free Discussion**

**Someone Stole Swansong's Prey!**

Posted 05.29.2020 by PipPippin

So, here I am just minding my own damn business when out of nowhere some scrap-picking menace actually had the balls to steal Swansong's prey - and right in front of my salad! I can't believe it. Scrub tried to wipe Swansong for her equip but you know how it is, Swansong obviously sent him packing.

But still! Someone committed the cardinal sin against SWANSONG? Ugh, I can't believe it.

Luckily, I was wily enough to take a video. Here, check it out and be pissed right along with me.

(Video Attachment)

**Discussion**

Laurr  
Wow cant say I'm shocked though, someone had to take Swansong down a peg

Nussun  
Are you stupid? Swansong kicks your ass once and you never forget the beef. I hope she kicks your ass again and sends you afk forever

Fils  
Man this sucks. If even Swansong is getting scrap-picked, what about the rest of us?

GoGoGadget  
Kind of want to hunt this fool down

Lemme  
I hope Swansong is okay

Weavel  
Swansong is fine just look at how fast she reacted

PipPippin  
You guys don't even know. Idk if I could have reacted that fast. I'm still shook. Swansong is iconic.

GoGoGadget  
Are we finding this guy or what?

**View More Comments**

* * *

Bella's no-good, very awful week gets better on Saturday night, albeit in a roundabout way. Taking refuge in her room, she logs onto the game in less than a good mood, having had the unfortunate pleasure of stumbling across a post about herself when she was searching the forum for any updates on the inter-server competition over the summer. It's a dubious fortune, she thinks, that people are offended on her behalf - dubious only because she already knows how fickle people can be about her in particular. This week she's a victim, next week she's a villain. Even if she tries not to pay it any mind, it's difficult to _not_ having any feeling at all about it.

When Janeway finds her online, Bella tells her that she already knows about the forum post, which Janeway seems to think is a good thing. _You should know how many people really admire you_, she says to Swansong_. I know people gossip, but you have more supporters than you think_.

And then Janway asks, _So, what are you going to do about that scrap-picker_?

_Nothing_, Bella tells her. Of course she's not going to do anything - what's the point? It happened, it's over, it's done with. It _sucks_ that someone stole a kill right from under her nose, claiming all the work she'd done to bring down the boar's health points, _and _then also stole the skill book prize, but it's still just a small annoyance at the end of the day. She still has the equipment Master Culler gave her, which would have been the worst thing to lose.

She's upset by the incident, because she's human, but she doesn't think there is anything _to_ do about it.

Yet she seems to be in the minority of this belief. Janeway thinks she should do something. Most of the forum agrees that the scrap-picker needs to be dealt with. And Master Culler - well, even he has an _opinion_ about it.

When the time comes for Swansong and Master Culler to meet at their agreed point, she arrives to an empty field at The Crater. She finds this a bit unusual, as Master Culler has a habit of being punctual. She doesn't have to wonder where he is for long, though, because soon enough their private chat pops up on her screen.

《 **Master Culler**: change of plans

》**Swansong**: where are you?

《 **Master Culler**: The Canyon

《 **Master Culler**: we have something to do first

_Before training_? Surprising. Bella knows she and Master Culler haven't been allied for long, but his character is one that comes through strongly in the game - he isn't the type to just put off training or be late to meetings for no good reason. Whatever it is that has prompted this change of plans must be important. She asks for his coordinates on the map, finds the western sphere where The Canyon is, and transports Swansong there.

The Canyon is in a dry, desert climate in the game. Surrounded by three towering mountains, The Canyon is settled deep into a valley filled with saffron-yellow sand and craggy, deep-cut walls of rock. The Canyon itself is something of a twisting maze, punctuated only here and there by outdoor stalls with sun-bleached fabric awnings that sell medications and other goods. The markets of The Canyon are some of the best places to find marked-down supplies and is well-known for trading among scrap-pickers.

Something like suspicion takes root in her mind as Swansong walks through the narrow passages of red rock - and the further the stalls become, the more suspicious she becomes. Surely Master Cullen wouldn't go this far on her behalf. Right?

Except her suspicions prove correct, because soon enough Swansong is standing beside Master Culler's blindingly white form, their characters facing the struggling form of a now-familiar character. The scrap-picker - Hive - is leashed to a tall pillar of red rock, held in place by a crackling blue lightning whip that is infamously part of Master Culler's personalized equipment.

Bella blinks at the screen, stunned.

Master Culler is holding the scrap-picker that thieved her _hostage_. Who even does something like this? It's - it's - Bella doesn't even have the _words_ to describe what it is. Incredible, maybe. And probably not in a good way.

》**Swansong**: what is this?

》**Swansong**: revenge?

《 **Master Culler**: retribution

《 **Master Culler**: you need those skill books

Maybe she does. After all, skill books can be _very_ useful, especially when preparing for competitions. If she can level her skills up enough, she'll be able to speed up the power and damage of her attacks - maybe even to be on-level with Master Culler.

But there are other ways to get skill books. It would take time, of course, because gaming is one big time-suck, but she does have her summer holiday off and that's surely enough time to collect the skill books she needs.

And honestly, she doesn't see the _point_ in any of this.

》**Swansong**: he won't give them to me

《 **Master Culler**: he will

》**Swansong**: oh really?

《 **Master Culler**: he's in a compulsion loop quest

Which means he can't log out until the quest is complete - and he can't die, or he has to start over from the very beginning. Failing compulsion quests can also drop player levels, too. In other words, Hive is stuck here until he cooperates unless he wants to sacrifice his own level to escape. And he's high-level, too, which means he probably won't want to be doing that.

How convenient.

》**Swansong**: I see

Master Culler says nothing, but his character does take a step back, a silent encouragement. For what, she isn't sure at first, so Swansong just _stands_ there doing nothing for a solid 30 seconds. And then she realizes that Master Culler wants _her_ to take over the proceedings.

He got Hive here, so apparently it's Bella's turn.

She bites her lip, not sure how to proceed. She isn't sure how comfortable she is with all of this either - Hive certainly as it coming, but to this extent? She would prefer a duel. But Master Culler probably chose this path for a reason, right?

Bella sighs and decides to go for bluntness.

》**Swansong**: well

》**Swansong**: are you going to return the skill books you stole?

《 **Hive**: you can't hold me here forever

》**Swansong**: I can't, but he can

》**Swansong**: he has more than enough magic points to keep you here indefinitely

》**Swansong**: and you're on limited time aren't you?

《 **Hive**: fuck you

_Well, that's rude_, she thinks, lips pressed together. She's starting to feel a lot less bad about this situation.

《 **Master Culler**: watch your language

《 **Hive**: fuck you too

《 **Hive**: go ahead and try it

《 **Hive**: you're not getting shit from me

《 **Master Culler**: there are always ways of getting what we want

It sounds vaguely like a threat, but it proves to not be an empty promise. To Bella's dismay, Master Culler suggests that she draw a weapon from her inventory. The implication is clear - hack away at Hive's health points until he gives up the skill books. And Master Culler wants _her_ to take care of it because it's her problem.

She just doesn't understand _why_, exactly. Skill books are important, but she has more than enough time to find others before the competition. There's something else here, something in Master Culler's head that she doesn't quite _get_. But all the same, she can feel the chilly rising tide of her anger over the whole incident the day before, which is why she pulls out the twin daggers that are part of her current silver equipment.

《 **Master Culler**: not those

《 **Master Culler**: damage points are too high

Bella's brows shoot up, mirroring her surprise. But…Master Culler _does_ have a point. Killing Hive too soon would be kind of like mercy because it just means he'll be able to restart his quest sooner. Drawing it out provides a kind of pressure, something to tip the scales, a psychological attack to compound the physical one.

It's - _devious_, actually. Merciless, too. She wouldn't have thought about something like this in a hundred years by herself. And given the way Hive continues spitting curses through the chat window, she doesn't feel too bad about drawing out her beginner sword, the one that has the lowest possible damage. She sets it to autoattack, hacking blood points away one at a time.

《 **Hive**: my hp is too high

《 **Hive**: this will take hours to kill me

》**Swansong**: that's the point

Swansong steps back alongside Master Culler and watches impassively as Hive's health points slowly, but steadily continue to decline. At some point, Master Culler tells her that he has to take a phone call so he'll be away from keyboard; she takes that opportunity to scroll through her various social media accounts, takes a few silly Buzzfeed quizzes, sends a text to Sue to make sure her dad is sticking to his diet.

Time goes by and eventually Hive stops spitting acid on the chat - instead, he's engaging in some spat with a tarted character called Cherry Lane, a Human dressed in what is little more than a bikini. Cherry Lane looks somewhat familiar. Bella has definitely seen her somewhere before, and recently. A player armored like that and with a name like that is hard to forget.

When Cherry Lane starts going on about how she'll free Hive and save him, Bella finally feels a need to step in.

》**Swansong**: this is a private matter

Predictably, Cherry Lane immediately turns her attention to Swansong, which gives her a chance to study her player details. Barely even past Level 20, none of her skills maxed out. Not a serious player. Barely even a player, in fact. It rings a certain bell, doesn't it?

《 **Cherry Lane**: you're bullying him!

《 **Master Culler**: mind your business

Master Culler's return is abrupt, and Bella leans back against her pillows to watch. This whole thing seems like it's spiraling out of control. Where did Cherry Lane even come from, honestly? She just kind of appeared out of nowhere. Probably a friend of Hive's, looking for him and found _this_ instead? It's possible. It would explain why she's so adamant he be freed.

《 **Cherry Lane**: you high ranked players suck!

《 **Cherry Lane**: you're bullies!

《 **Cherry Lane**: how would you like it if this got out?

Bella shakes her head with a sigh. Cherry Lane really _is_ a casual gamer - otherwise she'd already know that the entire server already knows about the issue between Swansong and Hive. And what the server's opinion about it is. Frankly, she doesn't think anyone will be too torn up to hear about what happened to Hive if it does get out - the forum is already looking for him for the same reason.

《 **Hive**: really Cherry leave it be

《 **Hive**: I do kind of deserve it

《 **Hive**: and I'm ready to return the skill books

Sure enough, a notification from the game system alerts Swansong that Hive is gifting her the skill books. She accepts them without delay, putting them into her inventory until she can apply them and upgrade her skills.

《 **Cherry Lane**: I'm telling everyone about this!

《 **Hive**: really don't bother

《 **Hive**: look the score is already settled on the forum, I posted an apology

《 **Hive**: can you release me now?

Master Culler sends a quick private message to verify that Swansong got the skill books back, and when she confirms it, he wastes no time releasing Hive from the lightning whip. Another message from him is quick on the heels of that action.

《 **Master Culler**: meet me at The Crater

Master Culler disappears in a whirl of white-blue as he is transported to another area of the map; Swansong is swift to follow.

The Crater is in the deep north of the game map, a remote area that resembles the surface of the moon in many ways. The game designers have taken great pains to make the greater north as desolate as possible, a wide expanse of rocky land marked by deep gouges to the surface, some smaller craters filled with glistening silver water, others homes of withering skeletons and corpses. The Crater itself is the largest crater in this area of the map, a flat pit with sides the curl up like towering stalagmites that reach toward the twin moons and the green-blue northern lights above. Here at The Crater it is eternal night, the sky above a seemingly endless expanse of black with only a few stars in sight.

It is here that Swansong materializes next to Master Culler. He stands next to a short alter that has been split in two by the Sword of Selene, which is still stuck in the rock, a tool that is required to complete one of the more challenging upper level quests. Swansong has not completed that quest; Master Culler has. This serves as a reminder of the differences between their levels.

This is perhaps why she is less than surprised by his next message.

《 **Master Culler**: you should have taken care of this yourself

《 **Master Culler**: I stepped in this time out of necessity, but I will not do it again

Bella frowns at her laptop screen. She's being chastised and warned in one breath, not something that happens very often. She tries to wrap her mind around how drastically different this night has been than what she expected, tries to figure out what Master Culler's motivation for all this was. It's surely nothing simple, not with the way his mind seems to work. After all, it is not an easy thing to go out of his way to capture a scrap-picker, secure him, and then direct Swansong through it all. In fact, if he wanted, he could have done it all himself.

So why had he gotten her involved? Certainly not for the same reason she went along with it, which was her residual anger over the whole incident. Unless - well, no. It would be silly to think that Master Culler had been angry on _her_ behalf and that is why he went to such lengths.

No, there is something else here, something elusive that she can't grasp. Master Culler is definitely on a whole other level. They might as well not even be playing on the same field.

But all the same, she feels it's important to get one thing straight - Master Culler needs to know where she stands in all of this. He said his intervention was a one-time thing; he should know that her willingness to go along with it is also something rare.

》**Swansong**: good

》**Swansong**: it was a nonissue for me in the first place

《 **Master Culler**: were you not upset?

》**Swansong**: I was, but because stealing prey and scrap-picking is rude

》**Swansong**: there are always other skill books

》**Swansong**: correcting wrongs in this way takes a lot of energy, don't you think?

Bella watches the private chat, waiting for the next incoming message. What will his response be at _her_ subtle chastisement? He seems to have thought she was upset and acted accordingly, which is a novel concept. Almost chivalrous. Not that Bella needs anyone taking care of her, but the thought that Master Culler would take these misguided steps for _her_ \- well.

It's something new, for sure. She isn't sure if she welcomes it or not. Good intentions are worth a lot, though.

《 **Master Culler**: you're right, but you're also wrong

》**Swansong**: oh?

"How am I wrong?" she asks the screen, narrowing her eyes at the white avatar standing beside her own. On the screen, Master Culler is staring off in the distance, not even facing Swansong, the picture of a man lost in thought.

Bella prepares herself for an _explanation_, and she isn't disappointed.

《 **Master Culler**: Hive picked you for your equipment thinking you were an easy target

《 **Master Culler**: you aren't and you fought him off, but you didn't complete the job

《 **Master Culler**: now you have

Bella leans back against her pillows, with a long, slow release of air. She's been playing catch-up trying to understand where Master Culler is coming from - and now she has a _reason_.

She shakes her head, caught between disbelief and dismay. _Master players really do think differently than the rest of us_, she muses. Here she is, trying to have some moral high ground over what should be an insignificant event, and Master Culler is on the other side of the screen thinking _leagues_ ahead.

Even before she sends back her reply, she has a sense of where this is going. Master Culler's actions have been three-fold the entire time. Capturing Hive and getting those skill books back was an action that accomplished three tasks simultaneously - it was rightful justice, a way to send a message to the NorCal server, _and_ a lesson for Swansong all in one.

》**Swansong**: so this wasn't just retribution

》**Swansong**: it was also about sending a message

《 **Master Culler**: the competition doesn't begin on the first official day

《 **Master Culler**: it starts now

《 **Master Culler**: an image of strength is better than any ultimate skill to intimidate the competition

_What's that meme Seth is always wheezing over? Galaxy brain? _Bella bites her lip, tapping out a response. _This is some galaxy brain level stuff. I can barely keep up with what this guy is thinking_.

It's exciting, in a way. For Bella, it's usually the other way around with people struggling to keep up with her - now the shoe is on the other foot and she's left wondering what Master Culler will do or say next. He's almost unfathomable to her, and she doesn't think she dislikes him for it.

》**Swansong**: you're talking about reputation

《 **Master Culler**: yes

》**Swansong**: reputation is fickle, just like people

《 **Master Culler**: maybe

《 **Master Culler**: but not for this

And he's right. From a strictly tactical standpoint, projecting an image of strength and protecting that reputation is the best way to launch a long-game attack. It's a first step, a foreshadow, a warning all in one. Having a reputation as players that aren't to be messed with will get them a long way in the upcoming competition - it's like moving a pawn to make way for a knight on the chessboard.

But that's just the tactical side of it.

Maybe it's because she's wired differently or pumped full of estrogen or simply has different core values, but Bella can't completely let this slide. Master Culler might be a master tactician who's planning their victory several steps ahead, but that doesn't mean he's totally right about all of this. At least as far as Bella is concerned, Master Culler needs to get a message through _his_ head.

》**Swansong**: my worth isn't defined by what others think of me

》**Swansong**: neither is my reputation

On this she will not waver, and she won't have her partner thinking otherwise. Tactical needs aside, Bella isn't the type of person who-

《 **Master Culler**: a fair point

《 **Master Culler**: but you are my partner and I won't tolerate you being disrespected

Her thoughts come to a screeching halt and a flush of warmth blooms from her chest. Master Culler doesn't want her to be disrespected? He…did all of this for the three-fold tactical reasons, but also because he _was_ angered on her behalf?

Her heart flutters. Maybe her very first assumption hadn't been so silly after all. What does this mean for their partnership if it's true? Can she consider Master Culler a true friend? Does this mean that he cares about her beyond the competition?

She doesn't know. She's not bold enough to ask, either. But…it is something to think about.

》**Swansong**: I'll keep that in mind

* * *

**A/N: Some _things_ are happening. Now, isn't it interesting when the Leads don't see quite eye-to-eye on certain things, only for Lead 2 to surprise Lead 1 with _emotions_? That's my trope. **

**Scrap-picking is also shamelessly taken from _The King's Avatar_, which I have considered research for this entire story. It's another Chinese drama centered around gaming and recovering from grief. Watch if you want - what else do we have to do during quarantine? I don't think there were any other gaming-related details in this chapter. However, if you are at all into memes, then Galaxy Brain is _always_ funny. **

**No updates on Handles! **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. And stay safe out there - be smart, use common sense, listen to the CDC and WHO.**

**~Rae**


	14. chapter 8

**[chapter_8]**

Master Culler was right - cultivating and protecting a strong reputation is something that can't be shaken, not even by the most notoriously flighty supporters.

Bella had thought other gamers would take offense to what happened with Hive, assuming most would have the same abject condemnation as Cherry Lane. But according to Janeway, the entire server is supportive. _Hive had it coming_, they say. And Hive continues to be dismissive in the forum, saying it was all very dignified and that he learned his lesson. The lesson he learned - and one he seems eager to pass on to other scrap-pickers - is to _go for weaker targets_.

Bella can only sit back and witness it all happening, feeling oddly detached. Her thoughts lock onto how well Master Culler read the situation. He hadn't been worried at all about a possible backlash, not the way she was - and he'd predicted that Swansong's overall reputation would soar after it was all over.

_He was right_, she admits, privately in awe. But honestly, he was _more_ than right. With this one incident, it's like all the doubt about Swansong that emerged after her split with Relentless has been swept under the rug. The overall consensus is that Master Culler and Swansong make an ultimate duo, and that it was kind of waste that Swansong had ever been matched with anyone _other_ than Master Culler.

Did he predict that, too? She has no idea. Master Culler's ability to play the game four steps ahead of anyone else is not like anything she's ever seen. Remarkable. Intimidating. Thrilling. That she's caught up in the middle of it all is an endless source of excitement.

What other surprises does Master Culler have up his sleeve? How will he enthrall her next?

She doesn't know, but she wants to find out. Especially because - and this is equally absurd and enticing - Master Culler seems intent to treat her with the highest courtesy. It seems like everything he does is tailored to benefit her somehow. He's protective, but not controlling; he leads, but let's her take the reins; he's supportive, but gently critical, too. Each of their interactions leaves her with a sense of _something_ she can't quite put her finger on.

All she knows is that when she logs out of the game, she wishes she didn't have to.

* * *

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**This is bad for my health #finals #prayforme

Rose Hale **ʘ****byanyothername  
**2 more tests to go! #almostdone #yayme

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**I hate you **ʘ****byanyothername**

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**Same

Rose Hale **ʘ****byanyothername  
**I guess I won't buy dinner then? **ʘ****thelittlecygnet ****ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis **

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**Sorry my hand slipped! **ʘ****byanyothername **is the best person to ever exist, we are all #blessed to breathe the same air

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**Why are you like this **ʘ****thelittlecygnet**

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
****ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis **Let me live

Ty-Liar ʘnumber1rosefan  
Hey **ʘ****byanyothername **can I come too?

* * *

The day of the internship interview with Denali is set right between two of Bella's more challenging final exams - she can only hope to replicate her performance on Monday's exam with the exam on Wednesday. The interview for the internship, while necessary, also takes away from the last bit of cram studying time she has left. As a matter of necessity, Bella transfers all of her study materials onto the cloud storage connected to her phone. She resolves to skim through all her notes at every available opportunity.

Being so preoccupied with her study needs, it escapes Bella's notice until the last possible second that Alice had not listened to her advice at all. Bella shuffles into the common room, looks up, and blinks. In fact, it seems like Alice did the exact opposite of listening to her advice - standing proudly in the common room is Alice, happily showing off her geek girl outfit and explaining her thought process for each article of clothing she wears. Neither Leah or Rose seem to be listening too intently, and Bella, for her part, has her eyes fixated on one particular accessory.

"Are those my glasses?"

Perched on the bridge of Alice's button nose are indeed Bella's blue-light blocking glasses. The thin, squareish frames are a touch too big for Alice's face, giving her a bug-eyed appearance that meshes oddly with the way she has slicked back all the kinks from her pixie-short hair so that it lays back flat away from her forehead. Alice smiles brightly, adjusting the frames from where they have slid down her nose. "I think they complete the look, right?"

Alice is _certainly_ wearing a look. It seems that she has fully committed to every cringe-worthy stereotype of what it means to be a geek - there is a tartan green skirt swishing around her knees, held up by black suspenders, a navy blue _Minecraft_ t-shirt tucked loosely into the skirt, and ankle-length white socks with Mary-Jane shoes. She has even managed to find about a dozen nerd-themed buttons to pin to the suspenders. Paired with the glasses and the hair, it looks like Alice walked right out of a 1990s movie set, when the best approximation of geeky girl was "no coherent fashion sense".

Heeding that Alice is asking for an honest opinion, Bella can only suck her teeth and not say anything. It's the polite thing to do. Clearly, Alice has gone through a lot of trouble to dress like this. She won't even say anything about the glasses - it isn't as if blue-light blocking requires a _prescription_, so Alice borrowing them isn't that big of a deal.

Yes, in this case, it really is best to say absolutely nothing.

Leah, of course, has no such compunction. She has that sly smile on her face, one that never fails to make Bella weary. Leah circles around Alice, tapping her chin. "Hey, didn't you model this after Bella? Is this how you think our Bella dresses?" Leah feigns a shocked gasp. "Wow, Bells, did you know _this_ is what you look like?"

Alice might be more innocent than most, but even she is not dense enough to miss the obvious sarcasm in Leah's voice. Alice drops her eyes, tugging at her skirt with a frown. "Does it look bad? It wasn't supposed to look _bad_."

Sometimes - only sometimes - Bella really despairs of Leah's sharp tongue. Even Leah does, because now she's biting her lip and shooting Bella a look that is silently screaming to _fix this, please, I didn't mean to be mean!_

Bella hastens to reassure her friend. "No! No, it doesn't look bad, exactly!"

When Alice doesn't look convinced, Bella turns a pointed look to Rose who, while as barb-tongued as Leah, can somehow manage to soften her tone into something that is soothing enough for Alice to believe. "It just looks a little stereotypical, Ali. Not in a campy way, but…"

Indecision wars plainly on Alice's face. "Do you really think so? Should I change?"

A resounding chorus of _yes_ gives Alice her answer. She retreats to her room with Rose, and when she emerges she has only switched Bella's shirt for a plain white tee. Bella doesn't know whether she should be offended that, out of everything Alice is wearing, it's somehow _her shirt_ that was the problem all along.

Bella looks down at her clothes - a blush pink striped hoodie under a light-wash denim overall dress and white canvas tennis shoes - wondering if she's wearing anything obviously _wrong_. Her clothes are simple, nothing that draws too much attention. Normal clothes a normal college student would wear and nothing at all like the kitsch Alice was trying to pull off.

Bella rolls her eyes, shakes her head. She's being silly. She looks _fine_. It's just an interview for an internship, nothing to be too stressed about it. Unlike Alice, she shares the opinion of her other roommates - the likelihood of any of them actually getting the internship is scarce. All college kids know that internships, while frustratingly necessary, are precious commodities that only very few of them ever actually get. For Bella, she is regarding this entire experience as a learning moment. She didn't have a job in high school that wasn't related to tutoring or babysitting so, technically, this is her first interview for _anything_. It's good practice for the future.

"Are we ready to go or what?" Leah asks impatiently.

"We're ready, we're ready!" Alice says quickly.

Palming their room keys and slipping them into a knit cross-body bag, Bella shoos her friends out the door, locking the dorm behind her. "Lead the way, Leah."

In the face of a challenge - the challenge being the interview, naturally - the driven side of Leah's personality has emerged. She has that look on her face, the one of stony determination, and it's edging into her mood, making her harder than normal. It will pass, Bella knows, once the pressure of presenting herself in a certain light has eased off - but she does pity her roommates, who did not experience three solid months of Determined Leah when they were applying for college a few years back. Leah and stress are not the best match. For Bella, this Leah is one that is easiest to navigate with permissiveness and a clear directive, which is why Leah is the one who fast-walks them through campus short cuts to get to the nearest bus stop heading to the business district as soon as possible.

They cluster together on the bus, the four of them pressed into a square of seats. Bella sits by the window, her mind wandering as she watches the view of the street pass by; Rose and Alice chat behind her, Alice eagerly going over the interview tips she Googled at the last minute; and Leah sits beside Bella, jiggling her knee and tapping her foot, double checking when they should get off the bus on the ride planner she has pulled up on her phone. Bella nudges her agitated sister with her knee, shooting Leah a wink that has Leah's shoulders relaxing, just a little bit.

Bella breathes a bit easier once they have reached their destination. Denali Corp. has its own glass-fronted building settled between lawyer offices and a bustling café. It isn't the tallest building in the cramped space of Concord's business district, but it's probably the most intimidating. There are actual security guards who are guiding the teeming mass of students applying for the few coveted internship positions into the building. An edge of nerves hooks under her navel, persistent even as they are allowed entrance into the building and directed through the registration process.

Is this what interviews are like? Unmitigated chaos? It's so loud she can hardly think, let alone fill out this little form. Her handwriting on her nametag isn't the best. Will that matter? Probably not. It's not like she can fix it - there are three dozen more students jostling to do the same thing, so she has to move out of the way.

Their group is lucky enough to find a seat in the crowded lobby of the building. All the whispering voices echo off the cold marble walls and floors, everything twice as loud as it normally would be. Bella breathes in deep, lets out a slow breath. She's getting tense for no reason.

She looks at Leah, who seems to be managing as poorly as she had on the bus, and Rose, who genuinely doesn't seem to care, busy scrolling through her Instagram feed. Alice is more jittery than expected. It's strange, she thinks, the way people respond to stress, even stress they have literally signed up for.

Not ten minutes after they arrive, Alice pops up from her seat, hands on her hips as she declares, "I want to know what's happening!"

Bella watches Alice pace back and forth, her round eyes pinned on the hallway where people seem to be emerging. Seeing that neither Rose or Leah are keen to intervene, Bella says, "You'll know soon enough. Stop pacing, okay?"

Alice isn't listening. Instead, Alice has pounced on the nearest possible source of information, stepping directly in front of a meek-looking boy who is trying to pass through the crowd after stepping into the room from the hallway. "Hi! Excuse me!" Alice says brightly as she cuts him off mid-step. "Could you tell me what kind of questions they're asking? What was it like?"

The boy startles. "Uh….normal stuff, I guess?" He coughs when he sees Alice's expectant expression. "Colleges, classes, career goals…that sort of thing."

"That does sound very normal," Alice admits with a puzzled frown. "There wasn't anything else?"

"Oh, uh. Well, they're also asking about our handles. Like, our gaming handles? Apparently they're looking for interns for their game development department too, so. Like. I guess have your handles ready?"

Alice's smile goes noticeably brittle. "Oh," she says thinly, taking a step back. "Thank you for letting us know."

When Alice returns to the group, Bella is baffled to see the panic threading through Alice's expression. Her eyes are wide enough behind her borrowed glasses that the whites are completely visible and her complexion, already fair, has blanched. Alice quicksteps to hover over them, wringing her hands.

"Did you hear that?" she whispers sharply. "He said gaming handles! Oh no, what are we going to do? I don't have any handles! It didn't say anything about this on the application!"

Leah freezes, shooting Alice a frosty stare. Rose continues to look unperturbed.

Bella steps in quickly, ready to deescalate the budding tension between Leah and Alice. "Calm down. This isn't a big deal," she says, tone smooth and gentle. She catches their eyes. "You guys can easily use one of my sub accounts."

Bella, like any player worth their salt, has several sub accounts that she uses for various purposes. While Swansong is her main account and Swanning is her sub account that gets the most play, she _does_ have a few others that can be loaned out to her friends. The sub accounts are in good standing, so they'll hold up well to any probing, making them the perfect choice for something like this.

"Here, give me your hands," she says after digging a pen out of her bag. In purple ink she writes the names of her sub accounts - Swansway, Swannson, and Swansea - onto the palms of her friends hands. "Remember, these are all on the NorCal server, okay?"

Rose lifts a brow. "Don't these names all sound too familar?"

Bella tucks her pen away, waves her hand carelessly. "No worries. Lots of handles have similar names," she explains, thinking of the hundreds of rather _inventive _spellings for account names she has seen as a gamer. "If they ask, just say you play with roommates. It's common for close friends to share similar account names."

Alice has stars in her eyes, clutching her hand to her chest. "Wow, Bella! You're so...so _cool_ under pressure!"

"It's the only time she's cool," Leah says, seeming to have recovered her normal sass now that her level of stress is easing off.

"Rude," Bella chastises.

Leah shrugs, unapologetic. "I am what I am."

Bella sighs.

Taking the opportunity, she pulls out her phone and calls up the app where she has organized all her notes. She scrolls through what the professor had indicated would be on the final exam. There's enough cross over between the exam she took yesterday and the one she will take tomorrow that she isn't _too_ concerned that her studying time is being interrupted by this. Judging by her grades all semester, she is reasonably confident that she will pass this exam. Bella is so engrossed in recommitting her notes to memory that she doesn't realize her name has been called until Alice is tugging her up from her seat. Bella trails along with Alice and a handful of other random students part of their group, and she doesn't say anything when Alice shifts her grip to squeeze at Bella's hand.

Oddly, she's much more at ease knowing that someone else is far more nervous. She's always been that way, like another person's anxiety puts her own in perspective.

Bella squeezes Alice's hand back, a silent support, and does not let go until Alice is called away. Bella watches Alice disappear into the small conference room just off the lobby that is being used for the interviews, and starts scrolling through her notes again as she settles in to wait.

It takes maybe ten minutes at most before Alice is at her side again, latching onto her arm with wide eyes and a frankly concerning amount of panic. Bella sits up straight from her slouch on the comfortable grey chair, staring up at Alice as she catches her hands.

"Alice, what? What is it?"

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Alice chants, shaking her head rapidly back and forth. "I panicked! Oh, I _so panicked_! See - they asked for my handle and I blanked - totally blanked - and then the ink on my hand was _smudged_ \- and the only name I could remember was _yours_, so I said Swansong! And now they think _I'm_ Swansong, when I'm really_, really_ not!"

"Ah…" Well, no, this isn't an ideal situation. Bella freely acknowledges that, even as she works to shush Alice before her jittery nervousness draws any more attention to them than it already has. Bella turns the problem over in her head. Alice used Swansong, which means that Bella can't. No _great_, but also not the total disaster Alice thinks it is. "Shh, it's okay," she soothes. "I have another handle I can use. I'm Swanning, too. I'll just use that."

Swanning, at least, has a public face. If Denali Corp. really does go and verify user handles, then Swanning is _without a doubt_ an account that can only be Bella. Anyone who spends more than five minutes on Twitch or Google will be able to verify _that_. Maybe it's better that Bella will have to use Swanning rather than Swansong? Easier, somehow?

It is what it is.

At hearing Bella's plan, Alice droops forward in blatant, bald relief. "Really? Oh, thank _God_. I was so worried! I-"

"Swansong?"

Alice _meeps_, high-pitched and stock still, and Bella looks up reflexively when she hears one of her names being called. But at realizing this, Bella swiftly taps Alice's ankle with the toe of her shoe until understanding dawns on Alice's face and she turns with a sheepish expression, shoulders drawn up to her ears.

Around Alice's side, Bella peers up at the man who has called for Swansong. He's handsome in a fierce, hawkish kind of way, all sharp eyes and nose, dark blond hair gelled off his face and dressed in a black vest with the sleeves of his navy button-up folded back. He stares at Alice - who he obviously thinks is Swansong - with a type of intensity that makes Bella a little uncomfortable.

"Swansong? Yes," Alice says quickly, the fib on her tongue flimsy and clumsy. "Do you know her - uh, I mean me?"

The man continues to stare at Alice. He can only be a few years older than them, maybe in his mid-twenties, but he holds himself with such _condescension_ that he seems much older than he is. The way he looks at Alice, running his eyes over her with a bald-face judgment, silently weighing her worth, makes something protective bubble beneath Bella's skin. She finds herself standing, arm hooked around Alice's elbow, with a terse expression aimed right at him before she can think twice about it.

"Is there something you need?" she asks with a pleasant, if cold, smile.

The man's gaze slips over to her, and he does the same obnoxious assessment as before, though this time his upper lip curls, something like a sneering smile marling his handsome features. "No. No, I'm good. I have _everything_ I need," he says, a somewhat confusing taunt as he turns around and saunters off.

Bella and Alice watch as he disappears into another hallway, and then exchange equally bewildered looks. "What was _that_ about?"

Alice shrugs helplessly. "I don't know. He was in the room when they interviewed me…" Alice gasps. "Do you think he knows I lied? Do you - I mean, does _Swansong_ know him?"

"Hard to say," Bella says truthfully. After all, Swansong is a well-known handle on the NorCal server, so the likelihood of someone involved in a gaming company knowing the name isn't that shocking. But this guy - the way he _looked_ at Alice, the judgment, as if he was comparing Alice to what he thought of Swansong - well, it all strikes Bella as uncomfortable and odd. Even if he recognized the Swansong handle, to follow Alice out after the interview and confront her in such a rude - _and oblique_ \- way is just…weird.

Really weird, actually.

Alice is frowning, totally crumbled. "I really botched this whole thing up," she says woefully, leaning her head on Bella's shoulder. "I'm probably not going to get the internship, am I? Rose was right…"

Bella pats Alice's head and keeps her silence. She isn't sure what to say or how to sound encouraging at the moment, and sometimes a companionable silence is better than any false words of affirmation.

They stay like that until it is Bella's turn, and then Alice takes her seat while Bella goes to be interviewed. There are three interviewers and they really do ask all the standard questions, which Bella finds somewhat mollifying - she had no reason to be so anxious earlier, especially since it seems like _her_ interview was much more normal than Alice's. When they ask about her gaming handle and she tells them Swanning, there isn't even a flicker of recognition, so she figures that the guy who sat in on Alice's interview was one huge, unfortunate coincidence.

By the time Bella and Alice have reunited with Leah and Rose in the lobby, she's already written the whole thing off. She does, however, make a conscious effort to steer Alice's attention off from the interview by dogging Rose on what kind of dinner she'll be buying.

"I want Sichuan," Bella declares.

Predictably, Alice cringes, Leah groans, and Rose wrinkles her nose. "If I'm footing the bill, then I'm paying for food I can actually eat," Rose counters.

"What's inedible about Sichuan?" Bella wonders.

"The spice!" Leah says with a laugh. "_The spice_ is what makes it inedible!"

"It's just a little chili pepper," Bella argues lightly.

"I'm still not paying for it," Rose says.

When Alice laughs, delighted by the spirited debate over the most palatable Chinese cuisine, Bella considers her duty as a friend well-done. Alice is the type to really agonize over things like bad interviews, mistakes, and judgmental men, so the quicker she is distracted the better as far as Bella is concerned. She doesn't like it when her friends are distressed.

Seeing that Rose and Leah are now arguing over chicken and pork eggrolls when _shrimp_ are obviously the best, Bella goes to give her own in-put - but she stops, feeling eyes on her back.

She turns, expecting to see that hawkish man from before, but only sees the rather crowded lobby. Through the crush of chattering bodies, Bella _thinks_ she sees a broad back in pale grey walking in the exact opposite direction toward the doors, but her view is obstructed as more students are called to be interviewed, Rose and Leah included.

Bella bites her lip, thoughtful. Something about that retreating back feels awfully familiar, like déjà vu.

She shakes the thought off. It's been a strange day.

* * *

**2 Girls + 1 Baby (Group Chat)**

Baby Bro  
Mom wants to know when your flight is coming in

The Sweet One  
I emailed the info t you

The Salty One  
Yeah she emailed you

Baby Bro  
K I'll check

The Salty One  
While your being useful for once  
Tell dad not to bring the cruiser

The Sweet One  
Please

Baby Bro  
What you don't want to feel like a criminal?  
Cowards

The Sweet One  
You know he likes to use the lights  
Its embarrassing

The Salty One  
On second thought  
Can mom pick us up instead?

Baby Bro  
They're both working  
They're sending jake

The Sweet One  
Omg no  
Are you kidding?

The Salty One  
We're gonna die

Baby Bro  
He's getting better

The Sweet One  
He is not  
Don't lie

The Salty One  
We've seen his IG story  
We know the disasters  
We saw what happened to that mailbox  
And the creepy gnome  
And the trash can

Baby Bro  
Okay fair  
But that was like last week  
He's better now

The Sweet One  
I cant even

The Salty One  
Yep we're gonna die

Baby Bro  
I'll pray for you

The Salty One  
Goodbye cruel world

Baby Bro  
Rip sis and sis  
I'll miss one of you

The Salty One  
Which one  
Hey which one?  
Seth!

The Sweet One  
Lol

* * *

Bella is part of the crush of victorious students who crowd the center courtyard of the Huang Center after the last final exam is complete. She tips her head back and casts her eyes upward, shielding her eyes from the early summer sun, feeling the warmth of sunlight sinking into her skin through the thin cotton of her sweatshirt. She smiles, free and unrestrained. It feels like she can breathe for the first time in nearly two weeks.

She's done. No more tests this stressful for _at least_ another 10 weeks. Even knowing she has her summer courses looming in the near future, she cannot be swayed from the sure knowledge that _these_ difficult tests are not ones that she will ever have to take again. Her course load this semester was really something - she vows to be more mindful of the recommendations from her academic counselor, who had cautioned Bella last fall for this very reason.

But it doesn't matter now - finals are _done_. She joins a few of her classmates in shouting a cheer to the sky, spends a few moments catching up with peers who she wouldn't be seeing again for several months, and then extracts herself from the crowd.

It's the last Friday before she has to leave for campus, and she still has tons to do. She and Leah have a flight on Monday morning and neither of them have packed _anything_. _That will be fun_, Bella internally despairs. The exams might be over, but the work isn't done yet. There is always, _always_ more to do. Aside from the packing, she also has the last roommate lunch this weekend, and a guild meeting, and she has to figure out what to do with her cactus…

But first, a nap. She's earned it.

Bella makes a beeline for the fastest route to her residency hall and doesn't notice she has caught a barnacle until a tall body catches up to her stride. She looks up, startled, and blinks as she tries to place the familiar face.

"Hey, Bella," he says, a shy tilt of the mouth.

Dark eyes, glasses, curly blond hair - ah. Jasper Whitlock, the bold freshman from the Anthropology department. He's found her again. Persistent or too forward? She doesn't know.

Her good mood takes a slight downward turn, not quite a nosedive but definitely a dip. Even still, she musters up a practiced placid smile. "Hello again, Jasper. How can I help you?"

_Please be asking for advice. Please want to know where the best vending machines are. Please ask for the best study room in the library_.

Pink crawls up Jasper's cheeks, his eyes beseeching, and Bella's stomach sinks a notch lower.

"Well, I thought - since it's summer break and all - that maybe, if you wanted, we could grab a bite? My treat, of course!"

Jasper produces a winning smile that, unfortunately, has no effect on Bella. She's again struck by how sweet and earnest this boy is, but it once more is not enough to make her bend. He seems like a nice guy, but she isn't interested.

"Oh. Uh…" Bella struggles to find a response. She thought he got the message last time, but apparently not if he's asking her out a second time. She needs something better than a polite turn-down, but what? Think. There has to be something. What could possibly deter a persistent boy?

Out of the depths of her high school memories comes the _one and only_ time Mike Newton ever backed down. It had been a ploy dreamed up by Leah and Jake had gleefully played his part even though both he and Bella had been internally squicked by the whole thing. Jake had been itching to do _something_ about Mike Newton and had jumped on the first opportunity. The entire _completely mortifying_ memory had involved a milkshake, sweaty hand-holding, and Jake pressing an obnoxiously loud kiss on her cheek all to send Mike Newton a message.

Bella had learned a lesson then. Boys back down when other boys send the message. It's stupid and totally sexist and the exact embodiment of patriarchal culture that she detests - but it does work. And she is willing to use a version of it now just to make sure Jasper Whitlock gets the message.

Bella slows her walk until she stops in place. "Actually, Jasper…I already have someone I'm interested in…" she hints.

Jasper frowns. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"But they're not your boyfriend? Or girlfriend?" Jasper clarifies.

The hope in his voice throws Bella for a loop, and her wrong-footedness is the only explanation for why she blurts out, "As if Masen Cullen would be _my_ boyfriend! He doesn't even know I exist!"

There is a beat of silence, and then Bella's cheeks flare red. She slaps her hands over her cheeks, eyes wide. _Oh, my God. Did I say that? I can't believe I just said that, out loud and to another person not related to me!_

"Masen Cullen?" Jasper seems to mull the name over. "That guy…isn't he graduating?"

"…he is."

Jasper brightens. "Well, if he's graduating then you won't be seeing him anymore, right? So, why not give me a chance?"

Dumbfounded, Bella can only stare. Is this guy serious? She just - and now he's -

_Unbelievable_.

Bella rallies, scraping some semblance of pride together. "I've liked him for a long time," she tells Jasper honestly. She shakes her head. "I really don't think I'm going to be moving on anytime soon. Look, Jasper, I'm sorry but I need you to understand that I'm not interested in dating you, okay?"

Maybe if she speaks bluntly, he'll get it. Right?

And maybe he does, because Jasper bows his head and takes a step back. "Okay. Alright, I get it. Sorry to - well, you know…" He trails off, then glances at her shyly. "I'll see you around campus, then?"

"Sure," Bella says, and then watches Jasper walk off. She waits until he's out of sight before she sags forward with a sigh.

_What an embarrassing encounter_, she laments. She taps her mouth in censure, still disbelieving that she'd _said that_ about _Masen Cullen_ to a basic stranger. Good thing Leah wasn't around to _witness or record _this - she'd have a field day and Bella would never hear the end of it!

Now Bella _really_ needs a nap.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Thorny  
So who else got the rejection email?

Paparazzi  
Me

Sleep Talker  
Me too

Thorny  
I knew it

Short Cake  
Wait  
You guys were all rejected?

Paparazzi  
You mean you WEREN'T?  
What the fuck

Sleep Talker  
Did you get the internship Ali?

Short Cake  
Yeah I did

Sleep Talker  
That's great!

Thorny  
Congrats!

Paparazzi  
Yeah same I guess

Sleep Talker  
Really Leah?

Paparazzi  
Sorry I'm just shocked  
Not that Ali doesn't deserve it  
But didn't she you know  
Bomb the interview?

Short Cake  
She's right  
I did bomb it

Thorny  
Apparently not

Sleep Talker  
So when does it start?

Short Cake  
Right around summer quarter  
Omg  
I only have 3 weeks to prepare?

Thorny  
Chill out girl

Paparazzi  
Lol good luck

* * *

The dining hall is uncharacteristically loud. It's understandable, given the fact that most students are saying good-bye and parting ways. Like their schoolmates, Bella and her roommates are treating this as their final meal before the split off for the next few weeks or months. Bella casts her eyes around the dining hall and feels a twinge of nostalgia.

She's leaving, but she's also coming back soon. It doesn't make it any less emotional.

The entire night before _and_ this morning has seen their dorm suit go through a torrential shift as everything is tidied or stuffed into suitcases. They're lucky that their dorm housing application was approved for next year because it means the only things leaving their dorm are either clothes or important personal belongings. Bella, knowing she is returning for the summer quarter, has opted for a single carry-on hard-backed suitcase, half of which is dedicated to the delicate transport of her computer. Her suitcase sits alongside Leah's, which is decidedly _not_ carry-on sized, at the end of the table, because as soon as this lunch is over they _really_ need to head to the airport.

Bella drags her eyes away from the jovial students around them when she hears the shutter-sound of a camera. She turns, less than surprised to see Leah holding her phone at perfect selfie angle. Still, seeing that the camera lens is _definitely_ pointed in her direction, she wrinkles her nose. "What are you doing?"

"Capturing a moment," Leah explains. She taps her phone again, this time capturing the skeptical quirk of Bella's brow and her own relaxed smile.

"Is this really a moment?" Bella wonders. She peers at the phone screen, looks right at the half-eaten evidence of her lunch and the background blur of some guy running through the dining hall without a shirt.

"It's the last lunch of our sophomore year, you peasant," Leah sniffs. "Of course it's a moment."

"Wow."

Leah shoots her a look in response to her deadpan tone and expression. "What?"

Bella rolls her shoulders, nonchalant. "Nothing. You're just getting sentimental in your old age - _Ow!"_

"Take it back!" Leah demands, twisting at the flesh of Bella's arm, which is trapped mercilessly between two of her blunt fingers.

Bella flinches when the pressure increases. "Stop pinching me!"

"Say I'm not sentimental!" Leah counters heatedly. She releases Bella only to pinch at another bit of skin.

Bella bats at Leah's grip. "Fine! Fine, I take it back!" she squeals. "You're a cold-blooded killer! You're a - a preying mantis, because _God knows you pinch like one!_"

Leah lets up with a self-satisfied air, a smug lift to her chin. "That's much better."

Bella scowls at her sister, rubs at her arm, and scoots a fraction away. "You're a vicious woman."

"I know," Leah says proudly.

"It wasn't a compliment!"

"I know," Leah says again, still proud.

Bella, exasperated, only shakes her head and shovels more food into her mouth. She won't be able to eat this pretzel-bun sandwich for almost a month, a thought that is almost untenable. It isn't like the food is _bad_ at home, but with her dad's dietary needs she knows all of her favorite junk food guilty pleasures are going to be off the table unless she spends _all_ of her time down in La Push. This is quite literally her last bites of nutritional freedom and she plans to savor it.

Across the table, Rose and Alice finally return with their own plates. Rose is gazing at them, unimpressed at having witnessed their childish bickering, and sits down with a haughty air. "Now that you two are done with that," she begins, before shifting her eyes to the center of the table. "Can we talk about _this_?"

_This_ being the stack of books Bella had collected from the bookshelf in the dorm and scattered through the common room. It's a sizeable collection, worthy of being acknowledged. Between the four of them, however, Bella has been the one guilty of keeping books checked out for too long.

"These are my library books," Bella explains needlessly. They aren't _all_ hers, of course. One or two probably belong to Alice.

Rose takes a bite of her salad. "And…are you taking them?"

"No. I'll be gone for three weeks. I can't keep books for that long." Returning the library books is, of course, her last thing to do before she leaves campus. Bella pauses. "Actually, I don't think I can even take them off campus…"

Rose nods noncommittally, then stabs her fork at the small pot perched on top of book pile. "But you're taking _that_," she states, both derisive and uncomprehending.

Bella widens her eyes and Alice, who is watching the exchange, giggles into her hand. "Rose," Bella says in faux shock. "I'll be gone for _weeks_."

"It's a _cactus_," Rose returns doubtfully.

"It _needs_ me," Bella declares. She doesn't care what anyone says. She has been nurturing this tiny golden barrel cactus since freshman year and she has committed to taking it everywhere she goes. The only reason she hasn't packed it away into its soft foam-cased box in her suitcase is because she wanted it to have a last bit of sunlight before the flight.

Leah rolls her eyes. "You need help."

Bella sticks her tongue out, much to the amusement of her friends. The rest of their shared lunch is peppered with wistfulness. It's the last time they'll be seeing each other in person for a while - and after two years they have grown especially close. Rose and Alice are like family. Bella will miss them a lot, even if reaching out is as easy as Facetime or a text message. At almost 20, she knows its rare to find people that can become lifelong friends and companions.

She cherishes her friends - these amazing, unique women - as much as she can.

_Leah isn't the only one getting sentimental,_ she muses as they all exchange hugs after lunch, gathered just outside the dining hall to _final_-final farewells. Bella's ribs hurt from how much she is being squeezed by each hug. It's a good kind of hurt.

"I'll miss you."

"No, I'll miss _you_!"

"Won't you be too busy with the beach and sun to miss us?"

"No, shut up."

"Well, don't miss me too much!"

"Impossible!"

There are thankfully no tears, but it's a close call for Alice, who volunteers to return the books to the library and clutches the books to her chest as if they are extensions of Bella. Another round of hugs and then a reminder on Bella's phone tings, letting her know it's time to get to the airport or risk missing the plane.

After detangling, Bella turns and reaches back for her pale watercolor luggage - and it's nothing more than an accident when her eyes flick up, snagged on a pair of classic Converse that are completely still. Her eyes float up - straight-fit jeans, white shirt, unbuttoned charcoal cardigan - and up some more - tapered waist, broad shoulders, just barely sun-kissed skin - and settled on an unmistakable face. A remarkable face, in fact. Peerless grey-green eyes, a steady gaze in an impassive face, seem to be looking at her. Or in her direction.

Bella, struck still, feels the blood rush to her cheeks when the barest hint of a smirk tilts on that impassive face - and then her heart thumps heavily when his smirk widens with a wink, right before he turns around and moseys back to a group of boys who are calling his name.

Dimly, Bella hears her own name being called, feels Leah's hand on her elbow to drag her in the direction where their Lyft is picking them up, but it all seems strangely disconnected. Heart galloping in her chest, Bella can only dizzily wonder one thing -

_Did Masen Cullen just _wink _at me?_

* * *

**A/N: Maybe he did wink, or _maybe_ he spontaneously developed a tic that makes only one eye twitch? Who knows? Not Bella, that's who!  
**

Updates for the List of Handles:

Bella Swan is…  
Swansong  
thelittlecygnet  
Sleep Talker  
The Sweet One

Leah Clearwater is…  
ClarityIsClear  
ClearlyFilmingThis  
Paparazzi  
The Salty One

Seth Clearwater is…  
changethisquil  
Cleareth  
Baby Bro

Alice Brandon is…  
aliceseesyou  
Short Cake

Rose Hale is…  
byanyothername  
Thorny

**Now for an important message from the author! While I'm sure some of us are under quarantine or self-isolation and that means that our work has changed, I implore readers to have patience with authors! Some authors, like me, already work from home and our workload has _not changed_; other authors are struggling with work and family adjustments, taking care of ailing people, or work in other essential jobs. If you find yourself searching for reading material to cope, I suggest trying out a new fandom or exercising some patience! Updates will happen when they happen.**

**To that end, this is a secondary message for all you lovely readers - we are in a difficult time as a society. Fighting an invisible enemy is stressful, so I encourage self-care and kindness to the self. You might be sleeping more or taking up old coping mechanisms - this is a natural response to trauma and stress, so forgive yourself a little. And also extend some of that kindness to strangers, particularly those who are keeping our society running during this (no better word for it) plague. It costs nothing to treat each other with kindness. **

**Alright, that's it for now. Hang in there everyone. As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	15. swanning on twitter

**[Swanning Twitter Update]**

Swanning **ʘ****swanning_twitch****  
**Hey Swanners! The next stream will be delayed! I'm on summer break & my hometown's bandwidth is a nightmare! See you next Live! #yourthebest #summerishere #twitch

(Picture Attachment:  
Two girls seated in a plane, the cabin window showing dense clouds and the wing of the plane. The girl on the right, Swanning, is holding the phone on selfie position, grinning widely with her arm looped around the neck of the girl who is sitting beside her; the girl on the left, with bronze skin and purple hair, is caught mid-laugh, her face scrunched in happiness.)

AJ ʘtypeAgamer  
Cool cool **ʘ****swanning_twitch **who's the other chick?

Swanning **ʘ****swanning_twitch  
**My sister Leah and she says she doesnt have time to slake your thirst lol

AJ ʘtypeAgamer  
Shes savage and I dont even care. Tell her I'll love her anyway

Queso Forever ʘq_ed  
You know I want to be upset but I think I can go a week without **ʘ****swanning_twitch** emasculating me

Darlene ʘdeardirt  
Hey at least you admit it ʘq_ed

Queso Forever ʘq_ed  
I have my pride but I'm not blind

Mrs. Smith ʘKLRinHeels  
I'm so proud of ʘq_ed he's like the opposite of toxic masculinity

J Kusher ʘkushercrusher  
**ʘ****swanning_twitch **should do 2 hours for her next stream it's only fair

Alistair the Recluse **ʘ****ratherbealone  
**Dont be a greedy mf ʘkushercrusher shes on vacation

Swanning **ʘ****swanning_twitch  
**Word **ʘ****ratherbealone**

* * *

**A/N: First update for today! Stay tuned! Also, maybe make some queso dip! It's really good and I _definitely was not _thinking about it while writing this update.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	16. chapter 9

**[chapter_9]**

The Denali Corps. Offices are located in the busiest downtown area of Concord right on a bustling main road that cuts right through the business district. It's a fine building, impressive and tall, looming over the businesses on either side. Intimidating, accented in untouchable chrome ad bright white marble swirled with pale tones of gold and green. Both the building itself and the sterile, if not currently crowded, lobby are statements of power.

Any person to step foot into the crowning jewel of Denali wealth would be understandably cowed - but not Masen. He's grown up in buildings twice as grand, let alone the office buildings owned by the Cullen family. Even their small office in Pasadena is more impressive. To Masen, this flaunting of supposed wealth and power is nothing more than a gaudy, tasteless display.

He expected as much. He's done his research, after all.

At his side, Peter is gaping in obvious open-mouthed amazement. His expression of impressed awe is one that contrasts greatly with Masen's own curated stone moue. It was a good call to bring Peter instead of Alistair, as was his first inclination. Alistair, he knows, would be as unmoved as Masen, and that wouldn't be good. One of them should at least appear inspired by the opulence so as not to offend their hosts.

Bringing Peter is a tactic. This entire meeting is a tactic. Masen, moving through the crowd, keeps his mind focused on the objective.

"So, this is Corporate America, huh?" Peter muses, ducking into Masen's space to mutter even as his eyes rove around the crush of people hungrily. "Look at all these poor drones, stuck here with no dignity, no offices, no healthcare benefits. What a shame, what a true shame."

"Not drones."

Peter stops shaking his head in pity. "Huh? Of course they are! Don't be blind! Look at how soulless they all are!"

"Interns," Masen says with a tilt of his head, a subtle motion to one of the dozens of signs directing intern applications through the registration and waiting process. He notes that even the signs are garish, and finds a place in the line for reception.

"Interns?" Peter looks around, seems to finally notice the signage. "Oh, they're interviewing for interns?"

Masen says nothing. Obvious statements of fact require no response.

"Well, an intern is a kind of drone, isn't it?" Peter asks rhetorically. "Hey, Mase, will we have interns? If we do, we should give them benefits. I'll never forgive all that work I did for that internship freshman year. Do you remember? My fingers almost feel off and I didn't get paid in anything but _experience_. Let's not do that to our interns, okay?"

"Mm," he agrees. As if Masen would contribute to the plague of capitalism. An entire generation working as free labor so corporate pockets can bloat with greed is not something he plans to perpetuate. It isn't decent.

"Ah, you're right," Peter says after a beat. "It's too soon to talk about interns!"

"Mm."

Peter fidgets, restless as always, as he continues looking around. He manages to keep mostly silent except for aimless humming, as they continue to move closer to the welcome desk. Masen confirms their appointment, signs them in, and then ushers them to the elevators. Once inside, Peter exhales a heavy breath, nerves clearly chewing at him.

The elevator rises to the top floor, and right as it dings Masen says, "Follow my lead."

He barely hears Peter's harried reply, because as soon as they step out of the elevator, Mr. Banner is waiting for them. Masen has already schooled his expression into one of practiced geniality, and meets a similar mask that Mr. Banner wears. Masen's mask, he knows, is much more convincing.

"You're early Mr. Cullen, Mr. Charlet," Banner says by way of greeting, a sharp glint in his eyes. "You know, it says a lot about a man's work ethic when he arrives a meeting early. It seems I was right about you boys."

Masen dips his head, and Peter nods along. "Good afternoon, Mr. Banner," he says, reaching forward for a firm handshake. "Thank you for setting this meeting for us."

Mr. Banner waves him away. "It was no trouble, no trouble at all. If you'll follow me…"

Banner leads them down a stretch of hallway. The theme of cultivated extravagance continues throughout the central offices with displays of golden vases and glass awards of business accomplishments, all of it just this side of tasteful. The office of the CEO is toward the back of the floor and easily takes up a third of the available space with a lounge of low couches just outside the frosted glass doors, a sort of waiting room for anyone who has a meeting. Banner bypasses the lounge and walks them right into the room.

"Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Denali, CEO of our company," Banner says importantly. "Eleazar, these are the boys I was telling you about."

Eleazar Denali is a man in his middling age, grey hairs just beginning to streak through his temples. He is tall and olive-skinned with a plainly calculating, almost hawkish countenance. He wears a three-piece linen suit and a burnished gold tie, shining Italian loafers on his feet, the very picture of old-fashioned business acumen. When they enter the room, he is leaning back on his desk talking to a young woman with strawberry blonde hair with obvious fondness. At seeing them enter, Eleazar Denali straightens up and smiles in greeting.

"Pleasure to meet you find young gentlemen," he says as they exchange handshakes. He directs them to sit on one of two white couches on the opposite side of the room, a glass table in the middle, and just under a floor-length window that allows the natural afternoon light into the room. Masen and Peter take one couch, Denali and Banner the other. "I've heard good things about you, many good things."

"Likewise," Masen says, and Peter sits down next to him, echoing his statement.

The strawberry blonde clears her throat delicately. Masen barely glances at her; Peter on the other hand, makes a quiet noise of recognition before he bites at the insides of his cheeks.

Denali holds up a placating hand. "Ah, right. Would you boys like anything to drink? Coffee, tea? My daughter, Tanya, will be happy to get any refreshments you might like," he offers, solicitous. The calculating glimmer grows brighter. "I heard you boys go to Stanford, too. Perhaps you know my girl?"

"We haven't had the pleasure," Masen denies, polite and succinct, leaving no room for further blatant nonsense. It's obvious, to him at least, that Tanya Denali has either been roped in or roped herself into whatever scheme her father is cooking up.

Masen had arrived to this meeting with a weary mindset. He was not wrong.

Denali, to his credit, hardly falters. "I suppose not! Brilliant young men like you would be too focused on your studying," he says dismissively, the same way a player might be unmoved by the loss of a single pawn. "Well, refreshments?"

"Water is fine," Masen answers. Making either coffee or tea would take too long. He doesn't anticipate this meeting lasting any significant time. Already he can see that Denali is impatient, unaccustomed to maneuvering around someone like Masen who will not be maneuvered.

Denali dismisses his daughter to her errand, waits until the door closes, and then smiles broadly. "Let's get down to business shall we?"

Banner produces a file from between the cushions of the couch. "We've looked through your portfolio and it's very impressive, truly remarkable, that such young men like yourselves have created such a masterpiece. And to learn that Pagan Immortals isn't your only published product? Truly amazing."

"Thank you."

Denali smiles broadly. "Mr. Banner tells me your mobile game is projected to launch this summer?"

"July 31st," Masen confirms coolly.

The Denali girl comes back into the office then, carrying a tray of four glasses filled with ice water and slices of cucumber, lemon, and lime. She sets the crystal glasses down, takes the time to specifically set a glass right in front of him. He spares her a fleeting look, just long enough to see the eagerness in her expression and immediately dismiss her as a poorly-timed ploy.

"That's wonderful! That gives us plenty of time to polish and advertise the product - that is, if you want to sell it to us?" Denali proposes confidently. He snaps his fingers. "Banner, the offer."

Banner passes a sheet of paper to Peter, who looks at it for a moment before his eyes bulge. Peter passes the paper to Masen hastily, and Masen takes a glance at the monetary amount highlighted on the page. He doesn't so much as twitch. Instead, he allows a polite smile to bend his lips, just barely, and silences Peter with a _look_.

"This is a very generous price," Masen says blandly.

Denali claps his thighs, victorious. "It is, isn't it? You young boys won't find a better offer," he claims, and Banner is quick to agree.

But of course they would think that. They'd written the offer themselves, and had banked on the fact that a few college-kids wouldn't be able to tell a bad deal from a good one. Masen has no intention of changing their assumption, of course.

"Naturally, I must speak with my other business partners about this," Masen says neutrally. "We're all equal shareholders and we must reach an internal agreement before we can accept this offer."

"Of course!" Denali agrees. "Take your time, think it over. The offer will be on the table for you when you're ready to accept!"

_Too confident_, Masen laments.

"We appreciate it," Masen says, and again Peter is quick to echo the sentiment, although this time there is an edge of bitterness in his tone.

"Ah, what fine young men. Right Banner?"

"Very promising futures," Banner agrees.

But Masen can see through it, can see the greed lurking just under the surface, the waspish instinct to take and consume. Banner might be more obvious in his scheming, but Denali is just as hungry. Their arrogance is nauseating and it chafes at Masen's ego to let them think they have successfully tricked him - but it is necessary. The meeting was a tactic of its own, but not just for Denali Corps.

Masen gained the exact information that he was looking for. He suppresses a triumphant smile and sits through the small talk thinly veiled in condescension, again internally thanking Grandfather Cullen for being as ruthless as he is - otherwise Masen would be like Peter, who is almost visibly annoyed by the time the meeting is over.

As soon as the elevators are in sight, Peter turns to him with a wide-eyed, on-edge expression, brows up and nostrils flared. "_Boys_? _Young men_?" he hisses venomously, shooting a dark look over his shoulder. "Ugh, of course that fucking _dinosaur_ would be so patronizing-"

"Peter."

"Shutting up. But I'm shutting up _grudgingly_," he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest, crinkling the one formal shirt he owns. "I'm still pissed, though, just so you know."

"Mm."

Peter transfers his glare to Masen, narrowing his eyes with blatant resentment. "Hey, why aren't _you_ as pissed as I am?"

_Because I was raised alongside a patronizing, passive-aggressive dinosaur of my own_, Masen thinks. Being called _boy_ and having his young age emphasized is _nothing_ compared to being called _orphan_ and _urchin_ to his face, among the many other creative epitaphs Grandfather Cullen has reserved for him. Compared to that, the way Denali and Banner tried to look down on them is almost laughably petty.

Still, he says nothing, merely presses the button to call the elevator and lets Peter stew in wondering how Masen keeps a cool head. Knowing Peter, he'll get over these slights soon enough. He isn't the type to dwell.

Before the elevator can arrive, Masen's name is being called from the offices. "Wait! Masen!" Tanya Denali hurries toward them, the quick clicking of her heels echoing off the marble.

Masen sighs quietly. "Peter," he says again.

"Yep," Peter replies with a bob of his head, eking a step back as Tanya draws nearer. He hooks his thumb over his shoulder. "I'll just…go find a bathroom."

Masen watches him go, resigned. The elevator comes and goes.

"Masen! I'm so glad I caught you!" Tanya gushes. She's the kind of pretty that is popular these days, twig thin with curled ringlets of hair and an obvious love for cosmetics. A conventional, artificial beauty that does not move Masen at all, no matter how much she bats her eyes. "I just want to apologize on behalf of my father. He can be a little old fashioned - he's the same way with my cousin!"

"There was no offense," Masen says politely. "Your apology is unnecessary."

Tanya pouts at him. "Even I was a little upset," she says. "I can talk to my father about a better offer, or even a job here, if you want, for you and your friends. Daddy listens to me!"

_I very much doubt that_, Masen thinks cynically. Denali probably spoils her and lets her get her way, but he isn't the type to actually _listen_. If Tanya went to her father for a request like this, Masen bets she would get a few comforting words and a pat on the head.

"I don't think that's appropriate, Miss Denali," Masen replies evasively. He can just barely hear the tap of Peter's shoes on marble and covertly reaches out to call for the elevator again.

"Oh, but I-"

The elevator dings its arrival just as Peter swings around the corner, more settled than when he left. Masen offers a tight smile to Tanya as he steps into the elevator, holding the doors open for Peter. "Thank you for your consideration," he says. "Please tell Mr. Denali to expect my call."

The elevator door close before Tanya can think of a proper response, her gaping expression the last thing he sees as the silver doors close together. Masen resists the urge to rub at his forehead, already very much at his quota for dealing with people for the day.

Peter puts his hands in his pockets, rocks back on his heels, and whistles lowly. "Wow, Mase. That was cold even for you."

"Peter."

"Yeah, yeah. I know," Peter says as the elevator arrives on the ground floor. Peter rolls his eyes at him, then takes the first step out. "Man, it's crowded in here. More crowded than before?"

Masen doesn't answer. He lifts his head, using his height to try to see the best path out of the building. Peter is right that the lobby is more crowded than before. Masen can't even comprehend why this company needs to interview for this many interns - there can't be that many spots available. It all seems very unorganized. He wouldn't - and won't - conduct his business the same way. All of this showmanship is just a waste of resources.

"These poor, naïve kids," Peter is saying at his side, ignoring the dirty looks he is getting from the prospective interns. "Why would they want to work for this shitty company, anyway? It's not all its cracked up to be! This whole place is just _problematic_."

Masen doesn't disagree. He does, however, see a way to get through the lobby, and begins making headway in that direction. He's maybe halfway through the expanse of space before he hears a loud, unrestrained laugh, followed by a gentler one that captures his attention at once. He turns toward the sound, seeking the source, hears something about Chinese food -

It's a group of girls, facing away from him, nothing remarkable at all about their group amid all the other clusters. And yet that laugh, the softer one so displaced in this lobby, reminds him of the eye of a hurricane, the calm during the storm. Its sound was soothing. Even is Masen isn't as outwardly agitated as Peter, that doesn't mean he doesn't feel irritated at all. He is keenly vexed, his mind already tumbling toward the next tactic, and this laugh had completely derailed him.

He doesn't think it's a bad thing.

He's stopped in his tracks by now, staring at the group, waiting for one of them to laugh again. But the laugh doesn't come - instead -

Freckles. Long, wavy cinnamon hair. A gentle, high-bridge slope of the nose.

He'd only seen her once and it had been just a glimpse, barely more than her profile as he'd been standing behind her. He'd had a better view of her computer screen, of the handle of her avatar. But it's the same view now, almost the exact same angle - except this time she's turning her head and he can see plush, shell-pink lips pulling into a teasing smile and vivid olive green eyes.

Swansong, in the flesh.

He found her - here, at Denali where she's obviously applying for an internship, of all places.

Serendipity, indeed. His heart quickens, blood thrilling through his veins. He found her. He _found_ her.

By now Peter has notices that Masen isn't moving. He backtracks, comes to Masen's elbow. "Huh? Why'd you stop? You're looking at something…What are you looking at?" Peter, a few inches shorter, cranes his neck around to follow Masen's line of sight and then, strangely, lets out a dramatic gasp. "Masen! Are you looking at a _girl_?"

Masen says nothing. He's trying to work out the best way to approach her - wait for her to break off from her group, or use a more direct strategy? Ah, but both ways have disadvantages. He doesn't want to scare her off, come on too strong. She appears so gentle, something that is almost at odds with her truly striking beauty. He has to do this right -

"Not that I can blame you," Peter continues blithely. "Who wouldn't stop and look at the campus beauty? You're not alone, my friend, but you _are_ a little late -"

Masen drags his eyes away. "You know her?"

Peter's expression is one caught between exaggerated shock and genuine bewilderment. "Do I…? Do you even listen when I talk?" he demands, poking Masen aggressively on the shoulder. "That's Bella Swan, the girl I was talking about the other day!"

Was Peter talking about a girl the other day? Ah. Right, when Peter and Emmett returned from the library and Peter was shoving his phone in Masen's face. He should have looked. He would have known who Bella Swan - _Swansong_ \- was before now.

"Bella's our current campus beauty _and_ the reason why all those dicks in the other departments can't say shit about computer majors being unattractive geeks," Peter brags. "She's, like, a sophomore or something, with some of the best grades in her class. Beauty and brains, if you will."

"Fitting," Masen murmurs. Bella Swan, the beautiful swan moonlighting as Swansong, is the campus beauty. It makes sense. He's more than pleased to hear - even unconfirmed - that she is also known for being intelligent.

Swansong is skillful, beautiful, and smart.

And he _found_ her. But now isn't the right time. She's occupied and he isn't in the best headspace. Knowing her name now, gleaning just a little more information about her, gives him a better place to start, anyway. This girl has status, both online and offline.

_She needs to be wooed_, Masen realizes.

He casts one final glance at her, then walks away, Peter sputtering nonsensically as he hastens to follow Masen's longer strides.

Masen allows himself one private, victorious smile. He found the girl. Now he just needs to woo her.

* * *

**Google Search**

How to woo a girl

About 84,300,000 results (0.55 seconds)

**Ways To Woo A Girl The Right Way - Dumb Little Man**

1\. Be Genuine

2\. Be Chivalrous

3\. Give Undivided Attention

4\. Notice Her Likes & Dislikes

5\. Be There For Her

6\. Learn To Listen

7\. Make Her Feel Special

8\. Keep That Element of Surprise

9\. Tell Her You're Thinking About Her

10\. Open Up To Her

_Scroll to learn more…_

* * *

Peter scampers into Masen's dorm ahead of him and announces, "My crops are watered and my skin is clear. I have been #blessed today. I should apply for the lottery or enter a raffle or something. I'm feeling _hella lucky_, you feel?"

Alistair, who has seated himself on the floor at the base of Masen's bed with a book in his lap, doesn't even look up from his reading. Emmett, on the other hand, spares Peter a single glance before tossing a foam basketball into the plastic net hanging on the back of the bathroom door. The net is one of the few things that haven't been packed into milk crates and cardboard boxes. Emmett claims he needs it to manage his stress until final exams are over; Masen just like to patiently wait for Emmett to get frustrated with his aim until his toss is so hard it bounces back and hits him in the face.

Masen sees the foam ball settle into the net and feels only a little disappointed.

Peter huffs at the lack of response. "Are you listening to me?"

"Why should we?" Emmett wonders, retrieving the foam ball and lining up for another shot.

Peter, very seriously, reveals his news. "Masen _looked at a girl_ today."

Emmett's next shot misses. Spectacularly.

Even Alistair looks up, pale eyes slowly tracking the space between Masen and Peter, as if trying to silently gauge the truth of Peter's statement. After a beat, Alistair mumbles, "Holy shit."

"I know, right?" Peter crows. He takes a leap at Masen's bed, mussing the sheets and blankets as he laughs uproariously.

Emmett, meanwhile, has turned to Masen with something akin to worry. "Mase, my dude…Do you need medical attention?"

Alistair seems to think this is a reasonable explanation and twists around just enough to ask Peter for clarification. "Did he hit his head?"

Peter's laughter dies down into poorly-muffled giggles. "What, like a concussion? I don't think so." He pauses thoughtfully. "But, I mean, I guess it's possible. That, or a lobotomy."

"When would he have time for a lobotomy?"

"You're right, he is a pretty busy guy."

"A concussion then?"

"Seems more likely."

"Should we take him to the med center?"

Masen looks at them, unimpressed, and that shuts them up real quick, although they do still exchange weighted looks when he moves to his desk. Masen pulls out his chair, and sits on it backward, arms folded over the back. "Focus for a minute," he tells them. "We have things to talk about."

Peter sobers up, sitting with his legs crossed on Masen's bed. "Ohh, right. Yeah," he agrees. "Some shit has gone down."

Emmett's eyebrows lift, and he moves to sit on the edge of his own bed, elbows on knees, squeezing the foam ball between his palms. "I thought it was just a meeting?"

Peter scoffs. "Sure, to you it was a meeting and to _me_ it was a meeting, but Masen turned it into a goddamn intelligence mission."

Alistair frowns.

"What?" Emmett asks.

Peter waves his hands in the air. "Right, okay! So, here's how it went down," he begins, and then dives into an impressively detailed account of the meeting. Theatrical as always, Peter manages to mimic the exact expressions of Banner and Denali, even capturing their exact speaking tones. He fully snags the attention of Emmett and Alistair, who each listen raptly with matching expressions of annoyance.

Even Masen listens, entertained despite himself. Peter is really good at impressions.

"So…" Emmett drawls when Peter is finished. "The highlights are Denali is a dick, that offer was a bullshit swindle, and Masen's a goddamn liar?"

Peter shrugs. "Pretty much, yeah."

Alistair raps his fingers against the cover of his book, but doesn't say anything.

"Well," Emmett says. "I did _not_ see that coming."

Peter snorts. "We didn't see it coming," he says, and then points directly at Masen with both brows raised. "But _he_ did! It was like a Jedi Mind Trick or something!"

"There is one working brain cell in this room," Emmett says sagely. "And it's not any of ours."

From the floor, Alistair scoffs. "Let's not insult Masen's glorious intellect," he opines. "He has at least _two_ working brain cells. You, however, are a whole dumbass."

"Fuck you," Emmett shoots back.

Alistair sneers.

Peter bounces on the bed, jostling his feet back and forth, almost hitting Alistair in the ribs. "So, what are we going to do?" he asks, looking at Masen. "What's the plan?"

"Play it cool," Masen answers languidly. "We have time. As far as Denali knows, our launch is eight weeks away."

Peter had been right, of course. Masen _is_ a goddamn liar. He'd smiled at Denali and said Midnight Sun planned to launch Pagan Immortals July 31st - but really, the game will be launched July 1st, as intended. A bit of misleading information can go a long way. Now that Denali thinks that the launch is several weeks off, they won't be dogging Midnight Sun to pressure them to sell their intellectual property for a frankly insultingly low price.

And when Pagan Immortals launches four weeks earlier than Denali expects - well, Masen would be willing to spend a lot of money to see the look on Eleazar Denali's face when he realizes a _young man_ half his age had swindled him so thoroughly.

Even the thought of it sends a vicious twinge of glee skipping down his spine.

"You slick, crafty little devil," Alistair compliments.

"It's a solid plan. I like it," Emmett agrees.

"Yeah, yeah," Peter says. "It's great, but can we focus on what matters?"

Masen looks flatly at Peter, already recognizing the excitement bathed across his face. He resigns himself to the good-natured teasing Peter is gearing up for, having long-since accepted that it's an inevitable part of friendship bonding.

"And that is?" Alistair wonders dryly.

"Masen noticing a girl!" Peter exclaims, managing to look a little offended that such an event was so quickly forgotten. "But not just any girl! I'm not even kidding, our boy laid eyes on Bella _fucking_ Swan and literally just _stopped_! He was like, _executive function not responding_ and everything!"

Emmett narrows his eyes. "Proof or it didn't happen."

Peter gapes. "Fuck off! Why would I have to prove shit when I have a character witness?" Peter looks at Masen expectantly. "Tell them, Masen!"

What is Masen supposed to say? Confirm that he did, in fact, see a girl? Say that Peter _did_ catch him staring? He isn't sure it matters one way or another. His business with Swansong - with Bella Swan - is his own. And yet, there are three eyes waiting on him for some kind of reaction.

Masen doesn't want to _talk_ about it - so he smirks, one corner of his mouth curling upward at the knowledge that he is _that much closer_ to reaching Swansong.

"See!" Peter crows and claps his hands. "Do you see that shit? That's all the proof you need!"

Emmett looks gobsmacked. "Did I wake in an alternate dimension this morning?"

"Nope!"

"Who is this girl again?"

"You're just as useless as Masen, I swear." Peter huffs and wiggles off the bed, coming to kneel beside Alistair as he pulls out his phone to show Emmett. He spends a few moments navigating a web browser, finding a post on Cardinal Trees, the not-quite-campus-affiliated blog. "Here," he says, lifting the phone to show the screen. "This is Bel-"

"Swanning?"

Three heads swivel to Alistair, who is craning his neck to see Peter's phone. Alistair looks genuinely surprised, but also a bit confused in the furrow of his brow.

Masen is confused, too, and maybe a little angry. Alistair _clearly_ said Swanning, not Swansong. _How_ does Alistair know Swansong by another name? He stares intently at his friend, silently demanding answers.

Peter, thankfully, lacks a verbal filter. "Huh? What're you talking about, Al?"

"I…" Alistair gestures at the phone, scratching at his brow. "That's Swanning. From Twitch."

Peter blinks rapidly. "Are you telling me that Bella Swan, the campus beauty, as a Twitch channel?"

"I mean…yeah," Alistair says.

"What the fuck? How did I not know this?" Peter demands.

As if he has any right to be upset by _not knowing things_. Masen would also like to know how he didn't _know_ about this - although, logically, of course he wouldn't have known. He only just now learned the name of the girl he's been pining for. He doesn't have a right to be…_jealous_ of Alistair for knowing more about Bella Swan than him.

And yet.

"Is she good?" Emmett asks Alistair.

_Yes_, Masen answers silently. If Swanning is Swansong, then of course she's good. She's great, immensely talented, and definitely a better player than any of these three who are talking about her right now.

Alistair must have said something confirming her skills, because Peter is shaking at his arm and demanding to see for himself. Alistair takes Peter's phone, pulls up a different website, and navigates to Swanning's channel to find one of her saved live streams.

"Impatient prick," Alistair mutters, before flipping the phone around to show the other three. "Here, see."

"It really is her!" Peter says happily.

_It really is her_, Masen thinks, a twist in his stomach, something like excitement maybe. They all sit and watch Swanning run through a Halo map with her little brother, each of them awed by her smooth maneuvering. Masen, for his part, is quietly enthralled by the expressions on her face and the way she talks to her brother. She's so - _lively_, but also reserved, cool under pressure and completely at ease.

He likes it. He likes _her_.

"Hey, I know her too," Emmett says somewhere in the middle of the video, shocking everyone in the room into a momentary dead silence. The only thing heard in the room is the sound of Swanning narrating how to play Halo.

Masen cuts his eyes to his friend. Does _everyone_ know this girl except for him? It seems like it.

"Huh? How?" Peter asks, flailing. "You didn't even notice her in the library and now you recognize her?"

"I was distracted by my goddess," Emmett says bluntly, uncaring. He nods his chin to the phone. "But yeah, I know this girl. She's on Rosie's Instagram all the time."

"Small world," Alistair muses.

_Small world,_ Masen agrees with a muted sense of dread. It creeps up his throat, latches onto his shoulders, seeps into his thoughts.

Bella Swan is well-known. She's everywhere and that makes her accessible. Everything about her is so effortlessly attractive, and Masen is coming to realize that it might be a problem. For him, at least. Because if Bella Swan is conventionally beautiful, extremely talented, and obviously intelligent, then he's definitely not the first man to have noticed. And that means that he has rivals, _hidden_ rivals who are also vying for her attention.

He tightens his jaw, the muscle ticking away. He has competition now, probably more competition than he thinks. And with more competition comes a greater sense of urgency - very abruptly, his plan of slowly getting to know Swansong through Dawn of Warcraft seems dismally ineffective. It might have worked, but now he's all-too-aware that she's more than just a talented gamer or a random girl.

No, Swansong is Bella Swan, and Bella Swan wears many hats that put her right in the public spotlight - right in the view of others like Masen who are attracted to her brilliance.

Playing the slow game is a stupid tactic now. He has to do something, has to find a way to step up the game, and he has to do it _before_ he graduates, _before_ she leaves campus.

He doesn't even know if Bella Swan knows who he is. He doesn't pay attention to things like that, and even if he did, they've certainly never met until now. If he's an unknown variable for Bella Swan then he needs to correct that as soon as possible - he needs to make himself something that she'll be thinking about over the summer, and not just because she's playing with Master Culler online.

But _how_?

* * *

Peter C **ʘ****peteypete  
**That feeling when your bro is catching feelings #gotmeinmyfeels

Masen Cullen **ʘ****maestro  
**Get back to work **ʘ****peteypete**

* * *

"You seem preoccupied," Carlisle pants, leaning his hands on his knees while he struggles to catch his breath. Sweat stains his shirt and he's grimacing, but he looks happy enough to be on the court.

Masen dribbles the basketball, not half as winded as his brother. He circles around Carlisle, then takes a lazy three-point shot. Beneath the net, Emmett catches the ball and hustles around to the opposite end of the court, Peter's screeching trash talk right on his heels.

"Mm."

"Graduation can be a difficult time," Carlisle notes. He eases himself to stand up straight, but still appears disgruntled. Carlisle had never been the _active_ sort growing up, and it hasn't changed now that he's hit his mid-twenties.

Masen casts his brother a side-long look. He doesn't think graduation is half as difficult as realizing the girl he likes is incredibly - distressingly - appealing to other men. Not that Masen would be saying as much.

Across the court, Emmett takes a shot, but the rebound almost smacks Alistair in the face. Catching the ball Alistair blatantly disrespects the rule against traveling, marches right up to Masen to shove the orange basketball into his chest, and venomously say, "I'm _done with this shite."_

Masen and Carlisle watch as Alistair finds the nearest bit of shade. Then Carlisle says, "I like him."

Masen snorts.

It's the Saturday right before graduation and half of Masen's fellow graduates had demanded a final game before they left campus for good. Masen had agreed on the condition that he could invite alumni - specifically Carlisle, who hasn't seen the outside of a hospital for the last five days and could probably stand some sunlight. Carlisle had agreed, and swiftly come to regret the decision when it became obvious that Masen only extended the invitation for his own personal amusement. More than once Masen catches his brother muttering how he should have just kept their lunch appointment, how he should have gone home to sleep, how Esme will miss him terribly if he keels over before their date.

Masen, mercilessly, plays literal circles around his brother.

Their game ends with half the players shuffling off the court and the other half chugging bottles of water someone had been thoughtful enough to bring. Peter rolls a bottle of water to Alistair, who is laying on his back beneath a bench, and Alistair flips him off in thanks. Emmett chortles. Carlisle frowns at his now-scuffed sneakers. Masen wipes the sweat off his brow.

Some of the larger group are talking about plans to get lunch, maybe order a pizza to be delivered right on the court as a final good-bye to the campus. Masen looks inquisitively to Carlisle, and Carlisle shrugs, a silent agreement to join if its happening. After all, Carlisle is just as popular now as he had been when he was a student - only instead of classmates vying to be his partner, near-graduates are begging for advice on how to survive in the real world. Masen thinks its almost the same thing, figures Carlisle might miss being _needed_ this way. He's always liked playing the wise man.

Masen is still mopping sweat off his forehead when someone calls for his attention.

"Hey! Are you Masen Cullen?"

Masen turns, takes a look at the speaker. Younger than him, curly blond hair, glasses. Completely unfamiliar. He stares at the newcomer blankly. "I am."

The blond guy has his own basketball and doesn't look cowed in the slightest that he's surrounded by upperclassmen. "You up for a game?"

Masen is slightly winded, but not significantly. He runs a few miles every day, so it isn't as if he doesn't have the stamina to spare. His group don't seem inclined to move any time soon, and if he's perfectly honest, playing basketball with this guy is a much more appealing option than suffering through small talk if he doesn't have to.

So Masen agrees.

The game isn't challenging at all. Usually for one-on-one, it can be difficult to keep hold of an upper hand - nobody is there to guard him, he has to keep the ball by himself, and he doesn't have any support. But this game is a veritable landslide. He scores and scores and scores, and all pretty effortlessly. Maybe his skill level is too high? Masen played all through high school on the varsity team. This blond guy, though, is barely keeping up, and Masen isn't even _trying_.

He eyes his gasping opponent, trying to figure out the angle. Why approach Masen and ask for a game? This guy was clearly looking for him specifically. Why? What's the motive? A power play, maybe a feeble attempt to establish dominance. But for what?

"Sheesh," Peter says from the sideline. "Dude, you okay?"

Masen also looks at the blond guy, who is now bent on one knee, pushing his glasses up his nose. He's outright glaring at Masen now, to which Masen can only arch his brow.

This guy has some kind of vendetta against him, it seems. It's _personal_, somehow.

Masen, having no interest in these insipid games, starts to trek back to the other side of the court. His brother is there, looking mildly concerned, and even Alistair has emerged from beneath the bench to watch the spectacle. Masen dribbles the ball as he walks, the sound of rubber hitting pavement almost too loud that Masen doesn't hear what his opponent says.

_Almost_ too loud, though, is not the same as too loud.

"What does Bella _see_ in this asshole?" his blond rival mutters bitterly.

Masen stops, catches the ball, replays the words.

Bella. This guy knows Bella Swan - ah, and even better, this guy considers _Masen_ a rival for Bella's affections. Well. It was going to happen sooner or later, Masen knew that. He just thought his rivals wouldn't be curly-headed twerps who made ill-advised power plays.

Masen isn't sure what his face is doing, but something like a smile is stretching across his lips and the very sight of it makes his friends pale. Carlisle, on the other hand, looks moderately alarmed when Masen turns back on his heel, approaching the blond again.

"How about another game?" Masen offers, tone hard and cold.

The guy looks up from his crouch, heaves a deep breath, and answers with a glare. "_Gladly_."

This game, like the first, is a landslide - only this time, Masen doesn't hold back at all. Using physical prowess in a sport neither of them are experts in is a flawed tactic to establish dominance, but all that means is that Masen is going to exploit this opportunity. He can meet a flawed tactic and overwhelm it with ability - he can send a message that whether it is on the court, or off the court, _he_ is the better option.

Not that it even matters. It isn't as if Bella Swan is waiting for the winner off-court to sweep her off her feet. And even if she was, Masen sincerely doubts she would care too much about the results of a _basketball_ game. The entire notion - and his losing rival - is stupid. Asinine. Immature.

But Masen is all-too aware that the only way to send a message to someone like this kid is to well and truly crush him. Nothing less than total defeat is enough to get the message across.

And so that is exactly how he plays - with the intent to crush this kid beneath his heel, to scare him off, to remind him of his place. Masen meets fire with a volley of flames, because that's the only way to end things like this. Another lesson gleaned from ruthless Grandfather Cullen.

Masen doesn't say anything when the game is over and he, for the second time, is the only one to score twenty baskets. He stares down his nose at his rival, who is glaring up at him with sweat dripping down his face as he struggles to catch his breath. Masen arches a brow, eyes cold, and then walks away from his would-be rival.

On the other side of the court, his group is gaping at him. He overhears some murmurs of _what the fuck is wrong with Masen_ and _what did that guy do to piss him off_ that he pointedly ignores. Alistair only stares at him blank-faced, while Carlisle is clearly weighing the option of going to check on the blond guy or not.

Peter, of course, is the only one to demand answers directly from Masen. "Hey, man, what the fuck was that about? You annihilated him once and then, what, went back for seconds?"

"Mm." Masen sips at his water, rolling the coldness over his tongue.

"It was like - like, I don't know, a cat playing with a mouse. Only the cat is a tiger and the mouse is too stupid to know it's a mouse," Peter babbles. "Dude, why would you play against him _twice_? What was the point?"

Masen lifts his shoulder. "I went too easy on him the first time," he answers.

Peter gapes. "That's - that's not a _reason_!"

Emmett starts a slow clap, duly impressed by Masen's evident ruthlessness.

Masen ignores it all, watching as his blond rival scrapes himself off the court and retreats with his tail tucked between his legs. He considers the message sent, because the guy doesn't even look back at him before he disappears, but Masen still wonders.

How many more rivals are out there? How many more times will he need to fend one off in his pursuit of Swansong? Is Bella Swan worth all the headache and effort? Is Bella Swan, with all her quiet dignity and gentle teasing and unmatched talent and peerless beauty, worth the trouble?

Yes.

Without a doubt.

* * *

Carlisle  
Is everything okay with you?

Masen  
Yes

Carlisle  
What happened today?  
With that kid?

Masen  
Lets call it a personal grudge

Carlisle  
Masen, be serious

Masen  
I am  
And I settled it  
Nothing to worry about

Carlisle  
If you say so

Masen  
Everything is fine

Carlisle  
Alright  
About your graduation - is it okay if I bring Esme?

Masen  
Sure  
Esme is great

Carlisle  
She is, isn't she?

Masen  
Should I start calling her sister-in-law?

Carlisle  
You're not funny at all  
Also maybe

Masen  
Okay

Carlisle  
Wait  
You won't actually call her that will you?

Masen  
(read at 9:48p)

Carlisle  
Goddamnit

* * *

Masen uses deductive reasoning like a weapon. And it is, in a way. Masen knows he can get anything he wants through deductive logic and decent acting skills. The world around him - and the people in it - all run on their own systems that are easy enough to parse out if he pays attention.

_"Even you, orphan, should be smart enough to learn this_," Grandather Cullen had said so many years ago, that same summer Masen became a Cullen, the same summer when everything was too much and not enough, when loss was still the ache that kept him from sleep. "_You street urchins are already good at manipulating people. Might as well learn how to manipulate the world, too."_

Grandfather Cullen, savvy as ever, was right once more - at least partially. Masen _had_ learned these skills, right at Grandfather Cullen's knee, and he puts them to use every day, as easy as breathing. There isn't a single thing Masen can't work to his favor, and he doesn't even have to use invasive means to do so. The tools, as always, are already there for the taking - and deductive skills are his favorite by far.

And it's because of this that Masen manages to locate the dining hall Bella Swan is most likely to go to. His reasoning is something like this: Masen has lived and dined on the Eastside of campus for the last four years and, to his knowledge, hasn't run into Bella Swan. Logically, this can only be caused by one of two factors - either their timing is spectacularly awful, which he doubts since he managed to find her twice _outside of campus_, or Bella Swan, like him, sticks to her side of campus if she can. Which means she must live on the Westside. Now, the Westside residence halls are largely devoted to co-ed, all-year, all-department housing, which means it's something of a mixed bag compared to the Eastside's tendency to sort residence halls by year level and major. Based on her being a sophomore - a junior, as of her next quarter - that means her residence hall is narrowed down to two buildings based on the amount of students he observed moving out permanently earlier today. By cross-referencing with Emmett, he learned that Rose Hale has three other roommates - and that means there is only one possible residence hall based solely on the fact that quad dorms are kind of rare.

Which means, if his educated guess is correct, Bella Swan lives in Roble Hall - and _that_ means he can pretty well guess the dining hall she will be in. This is another matter of deductive reasoning, one based on the fact that it is likely her last day on campus (she may want nostalgic food) and a simple matter of convenience (she may prefer expediency). Knowing what he does of Swansong, he guesses she would pick the closest dining hall to her dorm building. She - like Masen - is pragmatic.

So that is where he insists on eating lunch, right in the middle of peak dining hours. Peter insists on tagging along, and drags both Emmett and Alistair along, much to the latters disgruntlement. Masen offers no explanation when he is asked why they are going so far for lunch. Let them assume what they want. Maybe they'll think he's whimsical - he's overheard Peter claiming more than once that _geniuses like Masen can be as weird as they want because they're just that excellent_. He, quite frankly, doesn't care to explain himself for no other reason than it really isn't their business, friends or not.

They've already been circling him over paying attention to a girl in the first place. He doesn't know whether to be bemused or harassed by the attention. Maybe both. Maybe neither.

The dining hall serves good food, mostly an assortment of cold and hot sandwiches, salads, and freshly baked cookies that make Alistair perk up. The din of the dining hall is emphasized by the end-of-year shenanigans that are common to college campuses, including one definitely buzzed streaker. Masen eats his food - pastrami on rye, side of waffle fries - and lets his eyes casually travel over the room, subtly searching for a distinct pattern of freckles or a gentle laugh -

He doesn't have to look far. There she is, bickering with the same girls as before. He is too far away to hear what causes her to wrinkle her nose, to pout, to laugh, but he enjoys watching the emotions feather across her face. There is a plant of some sort that they all seem to be gesturing at, and he finds himself _insatiably_ curious.

Both groups finish their food at the same time. Masen makes sure to take the opposite exist, walking on the wide sidewalk outside the building at a lazy pace. He watches Bella Swan embrace her roommates, absorbs her gentle warmth from afar. There is genuine care between her and the other girls, he thinks, and mentally adjusts his plans. Pursuing Bella Swan also means becoming at least passably friendly with her friends, not just her family.

As Bella Swan says her good-byes, he realizes he has spent the last several hours rearranging his time just to catch even a single glimpse of her in person - and he doesn't even _mind_. The time spent just being in her orbit is well-spent. He is drawn to her, pulled like a magnet, like a gravitational force.

And that's why his feet stop, and turn. That's why he waits, hands in his pockets, just some distance away, patient for her to turn around and _look_. This is his first overture, his first tangible plan to woo this girl, and he won't be satisfied until he knows that she noticed him. His own friends, now ribbing each other over some other nonsense, leave him behind without noticing. Masen stays where he is, steeling his will, fortifying his determination.

Bella Swan turns around, her slender hand fumbling for the handle of her rolling suitcase, and as she does her eyes just happen to glance up - rich olive green meeting gelid grey-green - for just a moment, even though the moment seems to stop in time. She is lovely, feminine and soft, dressed modestly and simply. Her mouth is one that begs to be kissed.

Unbidden, helpless to stop it, Masen feels his lips tilt crookedly, a faint smirk settling warmly on his face. He's delighted, smug, _so_ satisfied when Bella Swan blushes in response, a pink that spreads across her freckled cheeks. He can't help but wink, flirtatious.

It's a feeling of well-deserved victory when her blush deepens. He turns away from her with some effort, appeased for now. She's undoubtedly _seen_ him, now. He's confident enough to think he has her attention as thoroughly as she has his.

_This is enough_, he thinks contentedly, rejoining his friends, blithely ignoring their jeering calls. For now, it's enough. He will have to settle for being patient until she returns from her summer break.

After all, she is not completely cut off from him. Swansong is still there, as is Swanning. He can bide his time. The memory of her blushing so brilliantly will be enough to keep him warm.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter has a few of my very favorite moments from the C-drama, so I was thrilled to write it. This chapter also saw some of the earlier footwork coming together - Masen _knows everything now!_ For fans of the drama, the reinterpretations are going to keep on coming.**

**No new handles for this chapter!**

**Keep staying safe. Stay inside. And for the love of whatever you believe in, _don't let your kids play with other kids in the neighborhood_. My neighbors are idiots. I have _frustrations_. Anyway. Wash your hands, wear your masks, be smart. **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. **

**~Rae**


	17. swan survives the drive

**[YouTube Video]**

Swan Survives the Drive, But Not the Embarrassment  
**ClarityIsClear  
**4k Views / Posted 2 hours ago

(The opening camera work is a little shaky, characterized by a grunt, the hush of a zipper closing, the distinct slam of a car trunk, and the fumbling view as the camera is swiftly, if not haphazardly, adjusted.

When the camera view clears, it is Leah Clearwater's face that greets the audience. Her dark eyes are bright with mirth, vibrant dyed purple hair curling around her ear. To the camera, she says, "This video is being recorded for posterity. If I die, I want everyone to know why."

Over her shoulder, a slender boy with an artful undercut to his jet locks narrows his eyes. He has an attractive face, almost pretty, with smooth russet skin, a sharp jaw, and almond-shaped eyes. "You aren't going to die," he tells Leah, swinging his keys around his finger.

Beside him, the familiar visage of Bella Swan passes into view as she slips into the yellow Volkswagen bug, a vintage little thing that has been obviously restored with a lot of love. She is, inexplicably, carrying a tiny, round cactus in a white ceramic pot. "Don't be dramatic, sis," Bella says, right before she closes the door.

Leah ignores them both. "If I die, I want everyone to know why," she repeats, right before she swivels the camera around to zoom in on the guy standing on the other side of the car. "People, this is Jacob Black. He thinks he can drive, but he is _woefully incorrect_. For some reason, our parents have elected him as our taxi home. This may be the last video I ever make-"

"I could just leave you here," Jacob says flatly.

"You leave me here, then all my blackmail on you is going _right_ onto your Tindr account," Leah threatens off-camera.

Jacob rolls his eyes. "Just get in the car."

Leah huffs, but still climbs into the back seat. There is some shuffling about, the camera view rattling while she buckles her seatbelt. Soon enough, the camera is picked up again, with Leah leaning between the two seats in the front, giving the camera a view of both the driver and passenger profiles, as well as the parking lot stretched before the car. The car is silent for all of the three minutes it takes to navigate out of the SeaTac airport - Leah zooms in on the signs as they pass - and onto the highway.

"So," Jacob says as the long drive begins. "Let's talk about boys."

Bella turns and frowns at him. "Can't this wait? We literally _just_ got here."

"Exactly my point! I need to know before anyone else," Jacob declares.

Bella twists in the passenger seat, lifting her legs into a cross, her back braced halfway against the door. She holds the cactus between her hands and shoots Jacob a skeptical look. "Do you have a bet going?"

"Yes!" Jacob says empathically.

Behind the camera, Leah says, "Wow, Jake n' Bake, that's aggressively straight of you."

Jacob rolls his eyes, the motion captured in the rear-view mirror. "Please," he says with a lift of a fine-threaded brow. "Do you even understand my struggle? Not gay enough, not straight enough. Can't a bi man live in peace? Isn't bisexual erasure _so_ last decade?"

"Don't preach to me about it," Leah shoots back. "My people are still being denied, too."

"You're right," Bella says soothingly. "You're both right. The internal prejudice of the LGBT community is problematic. We don't need to talk about it right now."

Leah falls silent and Jacob raps his fingers along the narrow curve of the wheel. Bella sighs, looks down at her cactus.

"So…" Leah says after a moment, breaking the silence. "You're betting with Paul again, huh?"

A glint enters Jacob's eye and he looks at the camera through the rear-view, a bright white smile stretching across his face. It is a look of unholy pleasure. "Do you want to know what we're betting on?"

"Gross, no!" Leah nearly shouts. "Spare my asexual ears! Seriously, don't overshare. I might vom."

Jacob pouts. "You're a buzzkill, Lee Lee." Jacob then shifts his focus to Bella, lifting his brows as he spares a glance from the road. "Now, back to you. There's a boy, right? Please tell me there's a boy. I need to beat Paul."

The road ahead of them stretches, low traffic, no rain but scattered clouds. Trees line both sides of the highway, lush evergreens stretching to the sky. In the car, the dash is cluttered with Funyuns and wadded up fast food wrappers. A dreamcatcher hangs from the rearview window.

Bella makes a face at the inquiry.

"There is a boy," Leah confirms off-camera.

"Leah!" Bella exclaims. She twists around just enough to shoot her sister a look of deep betrayal.

Leah, evidently ignoring this, continues lightly. "She's married, actually."

The car swerves - just a little - in response to Jacob's full-body shock. "Bitch, _what_?" he gasps.

"I'm not married!" Bella denies quickly.

"She is married," Leah disagrees. "In her game."

"Is that even _legal_?" Jacob cries, looking very concerned.

"Oh my, _God_," Bella moans, dipping her head forward to curl over her cactus in mortification.

Meanwhile, Jacob's shock seems to have simmered. He's looking at the road, but his expression in the rear-view is very curious. "Is he cute? He's cute, right?"

"I don't know," Bella mumbles. "Does it matter?"

Behind the camera, Leah heaves a great put-upon sigh. "You know our Bella," she says, reaching her arm between the seats to pat Bella's back consolingly. "She's turned on by a sparkling personality."

"That's true," Jacob agrees.

"She does gush about this guy, though," Leah adds.

"I do not!" Bella denies, sitting up straight with a would-be fearsome look, if not for the deep blush eating away her freckles.

"No, you don't," Leah agrees, too easily. "You just grin stupidly at your computer for _hours_"

"Leah!" Bella whines, this time turning away from the camera completely.

"What, am I supposed to lie?" Leah asks behind the camera. Her hand comes into view, pointing at Jacob as if in explanation. "The man has a bet he needs to win. Help a brother out."

"Thank you!" Jacob says happily, back to driving without issue.

Bella leans her head against the window. "Would I die if I threw myself out of this car?" she wonders.

Jacob snorts. "Wow, you _really_ don't want to talk about this. Alright, fine. We can gossip later," he says. "You get all loose-lipped after Emily's brownies, anyway."

"That was _one time_, and it was an _accident_," Bella retorts.

Leah laughs behind the camera. "Say it louder, just in case our parents watch this."

Bella huffs. "It's not like it's illegal," she admits mulishly. "Not in Washington, at least. But that time really was an accident!"

Jacob switches to the faster lane, speeding along the open road. "An accident I can guarantee will be happening again this summer," he tells them. "Emily has been experimenting with her edibles. She's looking for guinea pigs."

"Cousin Emily's dispensary is doing good then?" Leah asks curiously.

"Sure, sure," Jacob says. "People come all the way from the Port just for her. Uh…by the way, she and Sam are still a thing."

Leah snorts. "Good for them. Those saps deserve each other."

Bella and Jacob exchange an obvious _look_.

"Hey!" Leah says loudly off-camera. "I really mean it! I want my cousin to be happy with my ex-boyfriend!"

Jacob shakes his head. "You know, the scary part about that is it really does sound like she means it."

Bella giggles.

Leah kicks the back of his seat, and the entire car jostles to the left and back.

"Hey, hey!" Jacob shouts. "I'm driving! Don't kick the driver!"

"I wouldn't," Leah sneers behind the camera. "If the driver wasn't a _dick!_"

Jacob laughs. "I'll have you know that Paul appreciates my di-"

"Ugh! Shut up!" Leah gags.

Bella's continued giggles and the view of the road are the last things captured before the camera cuts out.)

* * *

**Comments **

HeartsAPlenty  
This jake guy is my spirit animal istg

twiiilit  
Too bad he's taken, sis

Yaheard  
Lets focus on the real issue, which is the thriving cannabis shop they all have free access to right now - so lucky

Rissy-One  
Idk, I'm lost. How is bella married in a game? Is that a thing?

ZomZomZombies  
Yeah sometimes. Depends on the game. Though I didn't think Swanning was married? Idk

**View more comments**

* * *

**A/N: Don't mind me, I'm just sowing some seeds for upcoming chapters. Although, to be clear, yes, Jacob is sort-of-dating Paul, _yes_, Jacob is bisexual, and _yes_, bisexual erasure is a huge issue. Leah is asexual and probably aromantic, something to be explored a little later on. Bella, as hinted before, is probably demisexual or otherwise on the middling area of the spectrum - basically, demisexuals have trouble feeling sexual attraction to people who they don't have emotional attachments to, hence why Bella pays more attention to personality and doesn't care how hot Masen Cullen is (she likes his brains!). **

**Why include any LGBT representation in this story? Mostly because Millennial and Gen Z kids _really_ care about being open with these issues. They talk about it. They explore it. They find themselves and find acceptance with it. It matters and is a big part of social culture, just like race and gun violence issues. **

**As to Emily running a marijuana dispensary - well, it _is_ Washington, where recreational and medical marijuana has been legal since 2012. Dispensaries are a thing and they are going to be normalized in this story. **

**I think that's everything. Wash your hands, stay safe, be smart, and _follow social distancing because what the_ fuck.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	18. chapter 10

**[chapter_10]**

When she was younger, Bella never thought she would live anywhere else than the home she grew up in. She couldn't imagine home not being home. Why would she leave, why would she move, why would she live somewhere else? It had been a childish thought, one inspired by her confusion - and lingering hurt - over her mother leaving, and never coming back. Renee might have left home, but Bella never would.

And then, Charlie Swan fell in love with Sue Clearwater, and suddenly the home Bella grew up in became something smaller, cramped, too crowded. Her home became a house with buckling floors and drafty rooms and three kids squeezed into one bedroom, weekend after weekend. And Bella learned at a relatively young age that a _house_ is not necessarily a home. A house is just a house, something that can be easily exchanged, easily upgraded for something better, for something bigger, for something that represents a future.

By the time Bella and Leah left for Stanford, they'd both learned the lesson - home is what you make of it. Home can be a house, or home can be people. Home can be a place to sleep, a shelter from the world, or it can be a place that represents safety. Home is something that simply _is_.

So as she looks up at the still-new house Charlie and Sue bought to celebrate their marriage, the house where Bella only lived for four years as a teenager, she is struck by the dueling feelings of _home_ and _not-home_. This is not the house she grew up in, but it is the house where her family lives, and that means it is home. But it's also not her current home - no, _that_ is back in California, the near-empty dorm waiting for her return in four weeks. She knows, as she has learned, that her home is something that will continue to change - she will find it in people and she will find it in places.

Now, though, she is home in a way. It might be a different house than the one she grew up in, but it's still the same sleepy, rain-soaked hometown. She can't help but smile nostalgically at the grey blanketing the sky, the misty drizzle breezing through the hair. She hasn't missed the rain, exactly, but sometimes the constant California sunshine is disarming. This is familiar, comforting.

The new house is much the same as it was six - seven? - years ago after the ill-advised home renovation project she volunteered herself for. The outer wood paneling is a little weather-beaten, the supple smoky gray faded by rain, the bottom of the white door splashed with mud. Sue has put two new potted plants, some sort of flowering fern, on either side of the door. The doormat is new, she thinks, and the porch is clear except for the muddy soccer ball Seth has left rolling around. From outside, she can see the warm light of the house shining from the kitchen, the living room, and one of the upstairs rooms. Behind the house, the apple tree has grown bigger, now within clear view from the front yard, and she imagines that Sue's garden is equally as thriving, even in this challenging climate. Both Sue's car and the cruiser are absent from the driveway, but the evidence of Sue's car is still leaking oil, probably that stubborn loose gasket again.

_I'll have to fix that_, Bella thinks. _Dad's probably too swamped at work…._

Jake, ever helpful when he isn't gabbing, gracelessly unloads Bella and Leah's luggage from the boot of his little Volkswagen. She barely withholds a flinch at his careless handling, both glad that she had thought to take her cactus out _and_ that she had taken great pains to wrap her computer - and Leah's camera equipment - in soft foam between clothes. Jake, looking quite pleased with himself, dusts his hands off and says, "Later, losers! You're your brother's problem now!"

Leah kicks the nearest tire in retaliation and Bella smiles.

"Later, Jake."

"Sure, sure!"

The girls pull their suitcases - _carefully_ \- onto the porch, Leah muttering vague threats to Jake's retreating car about what she'll do to him if any of her equipment is damaged. She'll probably follow up on the threats, too, so for Jacob Black's sake Bella _sincerely_ hopes she did a good job packing the technology.

Bella goes to open the door, but finds it locked. She wrinkles her nose, trying the handle again, and then sighs. "It's locked," she announces. "Do we have keys?"

"I don't have any keys," Leah says.

"Well, neither do I."

Leah rolls her eyes. "Mom always has a key _somewhere_ on the porch. Probably under one of these plants, or something."

Bella shakes her head. "And _Dad_ always says that keeping keys on the porch is just inviting intruders," she counters. "If there are any keys out here, then they're probably in a weird place."

"You sound real confident, sis," Leah says casually.

"Reasonably confident, yeah."

Leah smiles sharply. "Want to see which one of us is right?"

"I don't bet with you, Leah." Bella had learned that lesson the hard way.

"I bet I can find where Mom hid the key, and if I can't then I promise not to say anything about your little marriage for the whole break," Leah wagers.

Admittedly, it is a tempting bet. After having _just_ suffered the mortification of Leah opening her big mouth to Jake, she doesn't want to sit through another explanation about how her in-game alliance with Master Culler isn't a _thing_ that people need to be getting worked up over.

"You're on. Pinky swear."

They lock pinkies, press their thumbs together, and then separate. Bella steps back off the porch, leaving room for Leah to search for any places a key might be hidden - under the potted plants, under the door mat, above the door, on the porch light, under a window sill, and so on. Leah becomes visibly more perplexed as each new and increasingly unlikely spot she searches ends with no reward. Truthfully, Bella can't believe Leah is being so close-minded about the search. Knowing their parents, Bella would assume any hidden key would _not_ be on the porch.

Her eyes trail over the bushes in front of the porch and the collection of ceramic garden animals tucked between them - no gnomes, thank God, but plenty of turtles, birds, frogs, and sleeping does. Bella arches a brow and stretches her foot forward, tipping one of the smaller turtles up just enough to see beneath it. She does the same for all the ceramic animals and finally, beneath the slumbering white-spotted doe, she sees the gleaming metal of the spare house key.

Bella bites the inside of her cheeks to hide her smile, then steps back from the ceramic doe. She doesn't breathe a word about finding the key, and lets Leah continue searching until Leah declares defeat.

"Fine. You win. I'll keep my mouth shut!"

"Thanks, sis!" Bella says with a smile. She doesn't even feel bad about it. Bella _really_ wants to avoid talking to her dad about an in-game marriage with a virtual stranger. She can just imagine the conniption he'd throw, followed by the terrifying statistics about what happens when pretty young girls meet strange people online. No, thank you.

When Leah resorts to banging on the door, shouting for Seth to open up because he's _supposed to be home_ to meet them, Bella pulls out her phone to call him. A minute later, the sound of feet thudding on the stairs and tripping through the foyer can be heard, followed by Seth unlocking the door and hastily pulling it open.

"Hey! You're here! You're both here! So early! Hi, hello, my sisters!" he greets, a little taller than when they saw him last and a _lot_ more nervous-looking. He's a bit wide around the eyes, a little mussed overall.

Suspicious. Bella and Leah share a _look_, a silent agreement that their brother is up to something. Ah, well, they wouldn't be sisters if they didn't do their duty to find out why Seth looks so harassed for seemingly no reason.

"What were you doing, watching porn?" Leah demands, shouldering into the house, the suitcases rolling behind her. Bella follows along with their carry-on and her cactus, closing the door behind her.

Seth's face flames up. "No!" he spits defensively. "Who would watch porn in the middle of the day?"

Bella sucks her teeth, a twinge of amusement in her voice. "Little brother, that's probably not the _best_ defense, just for future reference."

Seth's face, if possible, becomes redder. Bella doesn't know where he gets his propensity for blushing from, unless he absorbed it from her despite not being blood relatives. Neither Leah or Sue can summon a blush, although she _has_ seen Leah get red in the face from shouting too much. Seth, on the other hand, blushes as easily as the Swans, even under all that lovely bronze skin.

"I'm just - just glad you're home!" he declares. "It's nice to have you back!"

Leah squints her eyes, skeptical as she stares at her fidgeting brother. "Uh-huh." Leah clucks her tongue. "Why are you so happy to see us, Seth? Did you do something stupid?"

"No!" Seth blusters. "I can't miss my sisters?"

Bella lifts her brows and stares, cactus hugged to her chest after she puts the carry-on on the stair steps. Her eyes trail to Leah, who is gazing at Seth with a hard sort of assessment - it's a probing stare that has scared more than one confession out of Seth in the past. Bella suspects it will work again now.

"You can miss us," Leah says after a beat. "But _this_ is just suspicious."

"Why are you so paranoid?" Seth demands, strangely and obvious defensive.

Bella tilts her head, hearing straining upstairs. Is that a rattling she hears? A scratching? A…whimper? No. Surely not. Seth probably just left his computer on. He probably _was_ watching porn. Not that there's anything wrong with that, provided all the participants are consenting and properly compensated.

The scratching sound persists and Bella side-eyes her brother and his harassed posture.

Leah, now irritated by the evasive tactics, draws her shoulders up. "Why are _you_ so weird? What are you hiding? And don't say nothing, because you're squirrely-ass behavior is extremely-"

The sound is quiet, a small _meep_ or maybe a _yip_, but it is unmistakable nonetheless, and Bella opens her mouth without hesitation. "Why do I hear _barking_?" she asks, eyes wide and both brows arched high.

Because surely she isn't hearing what she thinks she's hearing. Because the house - _Charlie Swan_, mostly - has rules, and anything that barks is not part of those rules. And yet.

Seth rears back, pales. "Shit, you can hear that?"

Bella and Leah both stare at him in flat disbelief. "Are you hiding a dog here?" she asks, even though she already knows the answer. She has functioning ears, after all.

"I'm not…_hiding_ it," Seth hedges. He's clearly grasping at straws when he adds, "I'm sheltering it! Until I can find its owner!"

"Amazing," Bella says dryly. Seth has only been on summer break for maybe a week, and he's already found a way to break one of the biggest house rules. Bella thinks this might be a record.

"Well, let's see this mutt," Leah says briskly, already marching up the stairs.

Seth fairly trips over himself to follow her, taking the steps two at a time. "He's not a mutt!"

Bella follows sedately, curious but not as ramped up as her siblings. Her cactus is still in her arms when she trails her siblings to Seth's room, which is dark from the closed curtains and his general refusal to use a lamp. The room has the same slightly musty smell all rooms belonging to teenage boys has, and it's probably only by the grace of Sue's childrearing that the room is mostly clean.

"Sure he isn't," Leah scoffs. She looks around the darkened bedroom, listens for the whimpering little whine of a bark, and zeros in on the closet.

"He's not!" Seth argues, even as Leah slides the closet door open. "He's a beautiful, good boy and he-"

_He_ is a skinny, wiggly, _muddy_ thing of a creature, with short black hair and warm brown markings around his muzzle, eyes, and paws - and he's also been chewing on a pair of slippers belonging to a certain police chief, which probably isn't the _best_ thing. The dog is cute, though, especially when it yaps and runs right into Seth's shins excitedly. Less cute is the mud the spreads all over the wooden floors and the thin rug in the room.

Leah whistles lowly. "Wow. You're _so_ dead."

"I know," Seth wails. He crouches down to pet the dog on the head, scruffing behind pointed, triangular ears. "But look at this face? How could I not help him?"

Bella sighs, surveying the damage. The slippers are not salvageable, but everything else is easy enough to fix. "Calm down," she says. "It's just shoes and a little mud."

Leah pats Seth on the back consolingly. "See, look. Bella isn't freaking out, so you shouldn't be either."

"Bella never freaks out about _anything_," Seth says mulishly, still petting the dog. "She isn't normal."

"Thanks, Seth," Bella deadpans.

"Ah! Shit! I mean, it's a good thing!" Seth hurries to say. "Me and Pistachio are super grateful that you're so weird!"

Bella blinks. "Pistachio?"

"The dog," Seth says. "I named him Pistachio."

Leah makes a face. "Why?"

Seth frowns at them with innocent befuddlement. "I like Pistachios."

Well, there isn't much that can be said about that, is there? Bella has no words and Leah seems to be of the same mind, because she shakes her head and kneels on the floor, stretching her hand out to the dog. None of them have ever had pets outside of goldfish and feral cats that stayed firmly outside the house, so a _dog_ is a foreign sort of challenge. Seth, though, has always wanted a dog - it had been on all of his Christmas lists for as long as she can remember, but Sue Clearwater has an allergy to pet dander and that was the end of that. Until now, that is. Maybe, if the parents can be convinced, and if Sue isn't incredibly allergic to Pistachio's short hair.

Bella is a little mystified. A dog was the last thing she expected when she came home. The surprise isn't wholly unwelcome, though.

"So, what is he?" she asks, also getting down on the dog's level. His wet nose presses against the top of her hand, thin tail whapping Seth's knee.

"Doberman," Seth says confidently.

Leah looks at Pistachio skeptically. "Aren't they supposed to be, you know, _bigger_?"

"He'll grow! He's just small now, that's all."

"Could be a Dachshund?"

"Aren't those the hot-dog looking ones?"

"Yeah, but this one is small and so are those."

"I don't think that's how that works."

"Well, it's definitely not a Greyhound. Too shrimpy."

"No, probably not."

"Chihuahua?"

"I don't think so. The eyes aren't buggish enough."

"But the ears are kind of right!"

It takes a ten minute Google search and a fifteen minute argument - while they bathe Pistachio in the upstairs bathroom with Axe bodywash, much to the dog's apparent enjoyment - for them to reach the agreement that Seth is the proud new temporary-owner of a miniature Pinscher.

_There are worse things to come home to_, Bella reflects, cuddling the dog close while Seth quickly cleans his room and Leah bangs around in the kitchen searching for something to feed the dog.

Pistachio licks the underside of her chin, as if agreeing.

* * *

[Instagram]

(A double picture post, both pictures set in Mayfair filter. The focal point of both pictures seems to be a sweet looking Min Pin with a glossy black-and-brown coat and amber eyes.

The first picture features three young people, two girls and one boy. The girl on the left is freckled, fair skinned and dark haired, her green eyes equally as bright as her mid-laugh smile. The girl on the right has a warm bronze complexion, finely shaped brows and wild purple hair, her dark eyes scrunched with the smile of her generous mouth. Between them is a slightly younger boy who longish black hair, his high cheekbones visible even through the softness of his herks. The boy has the dog in his arms, who is looking at the camera with a pink tongue lolling out. The boy is grinning wide enough that his eyes close.

The second picture is of an older couple, each of them in uniform. The man has warm green-brown eyes, a heavy wrinkle between his brows, and a thick, dark mustache. He wears a black police uniform, pinned with brass, and an awkward expression aimed toward-but-not-quite at the camera. The woman is a striking, if aged beauty, with gently lined features on a rich bronze complexion, kind almond eyes, and black hair only-just streaked with silver at the peak of her hairline. Her scrubs are mauve, a happy teddy bear over the chest pocket. She is holding the dog, who is licking her cheek, and smiling fondly at someone off-camera.)

Posted 1 hour ago

**clearly**_**filiming**_**this** Welcome to the family Pistachio, may your life be better than the ridiculous name Seth gave you

#familydog #dogaunt #notmyfault

**Comments**

aliceseesyou What a cute dog!

byanyothername It's been 1 day and already the shenanigans have started I'm so proud

jbisnowhere Congrats seth, your dream came true

Bromeo Cute dog, cuter girls, foxy lady~~

mathmagician Hey **maestro**, check this out

* * *

"I swear, I'll do all the chores, and I'll take him out, and I'll give him _all the baths_," Seth bargains, hands clasped together as he alternates pleading looks between their parents. "Please, please, _please_ let me keep Pistachio."

Charlie Swan and Sue Clearwater-Swan look at each other with that remarkable silent communication they have always had. Sniffing at their ankles is Pistachio, completely oblivious that his future is being decided. Sitting on the stairs, Bella and Leah watch everything unfold, Bella slumped over just enough to rest her chin on Leah's bony shoulder.

Charlie Swan has never been a particularly large man, although his solid, compact build had seem gargantuan when Bella was much younger. He is still trim and fit for duty, but age has begun to weather his skin, grizzling him around the jaw. His serious dark hazel eyes are shadowed by the stress of work, a heavy wrinkle between his brows from a lifetime of deep frowning. He evokes in Bella a sense of safety and dependability, a sort of unshakeable, quiet resolution. He is a pillar, a foundation stone. Sue Clearwater-Swan is his perfect counterpoint, in Bella's humble opinion. Sue had been - and still is - a great beauty, with long, straight black hair, supple bronze skin, and the kind of bone structure that belongs on a statue. Her eyes are a lighter shade of brown than either of her children, but both Leah and Seth share her generous mouth and the fine, straight angle of her nose. Sue is what Bella considers the epitome of womanhood and motherhood, a pillar just as steady as her husband, but one that is tempered by an unfathomable well of gentleness and kindness. Together, they had been the stability that kept Bella humbled, that helped her bloom into herself with a quiet confidence. She seeks to become everything they already are.

So she isn't the least bit surprised when Sue smiles with great fondness, strokes her son's cheek, and says, "I suppose I'll just have to be more diligent with my allergy medication."

Charlie claps Seth on the shoulder and says, "Take care of him, keep your grades up, and don't let him eat my shoes."

She muffles her amusement when Seth haltingly explains that Pistachio had already, in fact, bitten away the toes of at least one slipper, and Charlie promptly says, "Well, they were ugly anyway, son. The dog can keep 'em."

"They always go too easy on him," Leah complains.

But Bella disagrees. They have good parents and they're objectively good kids, even with the occasional mischief. She figures their parents are letting Seth keep the dog to keep him out of trouble for the summer more than anything else, which isn't a bad plan considering what Seth can get himself into when left unsupervised. Having an outlet for his energy will probably help keep the chaos at bay.

With the dog thing settled, there is a round of warm hugs, kissed cheeks, and awkward - from Charlie - pats on the back and ruffled hair. Bella basks in the scent of pine cologne and jasmine perfume, and welcomes the way Sue fusses over them even as she bustles through the kitchen to heat up a hearty fish stew and soft, buttery cheese biscuits.

"Oh, look at you girls," Sue frets as she stirs the fragrant pot. "Are you eating enough?

"We eat plenty, Mom," Bella assures her. She and Leah move around each other in perfect synch to set the table with bowls and spoons, while Seth commandeers one corner of the kitchen to pour cranberry juice for everyone.

Leah snorts. "Yeah, you should see how much Bella can pack away. Two whole plates of extra spicy hot wings in one sitting."

Bella pokes out her tongue, but doesn't deny it. Her appetite can be voracious sometimes. It had been - and will likely continue to be - a joke that Bella is easily led by her stomach. She sees no reason to be defensive about enjoying her food.

Still, Sue clucks her tongue in disagreement. "You're both thinner," she insists. "You should eat more. Studying burns a lot of energy, did you know? Are you eating enough walnuts? You know how important balanced nutrition -"

"They're fine, Sue," Charlie soothes when he ambles back into the room. His holster and gun are missing, already put into the safe in the front closet, and he has switched his heavy boots for thick knit slippers Pistachio seems to have no interest in.

"I just worry," Sue says.

Charlie smiles warmly, and Sue smiles back. They look very much in love, as they always have for as long as Bella can remember.

She is so happy to be home. She didn't know how much she missed it, probably fooled into forgetting homesickness with Leah constantly by her side. She wonders how miserable she might be if she and Leah went to different colleges. A lot, probably.

They eat and catch up on things that bi-weekly phone calls and sporadic texts can't cover. Sue has finally been promoted to Head Nurse in the pediatric ward at Forks General; Charlie finished training a deputy and then caught him doing _unmentionable things _in the break room with Eric Yorkie, a journalist for the local paper who went to high school with Bella and Leah; Seth has, somehow, managed to fail art and has to attend summer school to make up the credits.

Charlie asks about their grades, then awkwardly inquires if they have any _special somebodies_ he should know about, to which Bella kicks Leah under the table and then answers _no, we don't, dad_. Charlie looks incredibly relieved. It's probably a father's worst nightmare to have two daughters dating at the same time, especially if they're dating hundreds of miles away. Charlie probably won't ever have to worry about that for Leah, and Bella can't imagine changing her status any time soon.

Sue asks if they have any plans for the summer, and then smiles when Leah loudly announces she plans to spend every minute she can at the res because _Rose can't think she's the only one with a beach_ and because _I've missed those idiots and someone needs to keep them in line_. When it's Bella's turn, she mentions the apparent oil leak in Sue's engine and offers to fix it, and then insists when Sue tries to refuse.

And then Sue, apparently seeing that Bella's penchant for keeping busy hasn't abated since Christmas, mentions that Nurse Weber's son is also in summer school and could probably use some additional tutoring, and would Bella be willing to take the job? Bella, of course, accepts the offer because could stand to make some extra cash.

It is, all in all, a good start to her summer break. She goes to sleep that night in her childhood bed, stomach satisfactorily filled by Sue's turtle brownies and immensely comforted to be back home.

She wonders, just for a moment, just when she's on the edge of sleep, if Masen Cullen really _did_ wink at her -

But no. It was probably the sun in his eyes, or something. It was nothing more than pure luck to see him in person, so close, before she left. She'll probably never see him again, and will have to settle for admiring him from afar and following his career as it progresses.

It's enough, for her. She shouldn't think about it anymore.

* * *

Dawn of Warcraft - Contests - 2020 Video Contest

**2020 Video Contest  
**Posted 6.1.2020

Hey, gamers! It's time for our annual video contest! In the past, we have had plot requirements for the storylines of all videos, but this year the rule is changing!

We want your creativity! Shock us with epic battles and move us to tears with drama. Try your hand at a gut-busting comedy, or make a parody of your favorite movie!

We are accepting all entries that comply with community standards. Register for the contest and submit your video with the form below. Public voting will begin June 20, 2020.

_Read more…_

* * *

It is with great relish that Bella, sitting primly on her bed with a wooden bed-table holding her laptop over her crossed legs, logs into the game. There is something wistful about it, a sense of comfort and nostalgia. This bedroom was where she first discovered her love for gaming, where she first crafted her talent, and where she created Swansong. It feels _right_ to be playing here, again.

Her family have already gone their separate ways - Charlie and Sue off to work, Seth at summer school, and Leah lazing the day away in front of the TV. She's alone in her bedroom, another room that she shares with Leah. Unlike their dorm room, this bedroom has a massive pine L-shaped bunkbed crowding one corner, the top bunk on one wall and the bottom bunk on the other, with a matching desk sitting under the window facing the forest. Bella, having the bottom bunk, has a small shelf near her bed that holds a candle, a bottle of water, her cellphone, and her laptop when not in use. There are glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the wall behind her and a poster for Dawn of Warcraft, both of which match the sooty star-specked duvet and the cartoonish RAM-shaped plushie in her lap. The walls in this room, like the rest of the house, are some shade of purple - _nightingale_, she thinks the paint was called.

Damp hair woven into a side-plait, wearing a short pin-striped romper and a perfectly soft cotton sweater, Bella wiggles her bare toes in excitement as the game loads. How many days, how many hours, has it been since she last logged on? It's a necessity to survive finals, of course, but she hasn't had any decent game play for _at least_ a week. Even her daily quests have suffered.

Bella eagerly moves Swansong into action as soon as the game finishes loading. She has a couple of pending quests she can complete, or side quests to fully develop some of her supplemental skills - it would be nice to be able to make her own equipment, like Master Culler, although that would involve learning higher skills for mining and blacksmithing. She has the time, though, for the next four weeks to do exactly that. Not quite sure which quests she wants to take, Bella opts to complete her daily quest, which is to gather a rare poppy from a hidden glen. It's the ideal type of mindless task that lets her relax into playing, her mind drifting contentedly.

_This is the first of four Mondays without any classes_, she thinks happily. She can't think of a better way to spend her time, not today at least. Plenty of plans have already been made with her hometown friends, and she will be tutoring that Weber boy, but for the most part Bella is intent on _gaming, gaming, gaming_. Maybe she'll even add a second Twitch stream for a while? That would be fun, too.

Idly, she wonders what Master Culler's plans are. He hadn't indicated they would be stopping their training schedule for the summer, so she supposes he has a flexible schedule like her - which is a good thing, of course, because the inter-server competition starts in just under two weeks. She's excited about that, too.

Swansong finishes her daily quest, stores the rare poppy in her inventory, and then accepts the terms for one of the side quests. Wouldn't it be cool to have her own equipment for the tournament? She doubts she'll advance quick enough to produce anything of quality, but she can try.

But before Bella can navigate to the blacksmithing village, a private message pops up on her screen. Her eyes scan the rapid messages from Janeway and she frowns. This doesn't seem like the usual gossip. Actually, Janeway seems uncharacteristically hesitant, which is alarming for _many_ reasons.

Janeway is shameless. She doesn't have the capacity for hesitancy. So, what is it that has Janeway…like this?

《 **Janeway: **okay so I have something to tell you

《 **Janeway: **or show you actually

《 **Janeway: **and I think you might be pissed about it

《 **Janeway: **so

》**Swansong**: are you okay?

》**Swansong**: you seem not very you

《 **Janeway: **who me? Yeah I'm fine

《 **Janeway: **you're the one that might not be fine tbh

》**Swansong**: I'll be fine

》**Swansong**: show me whatever it is

《 **Janeway: **are you sure?

《 **Janeway: **last chance to back out

》**Swansong**: it's okay, just show me

Janeway's next message is a hyperlink, followed by dead silence, like the virtual equivalent of handing someone a letter and walking off. Bella follows the link, which takes her to a Dawn of Warcraft forum hosting video entries for the 2020 Video Contest. The video in particular is one that is submitted by Queen V - and as Bella watches it, she has the thought that Jane didn't hand her a letter, she handed her a _bomb_.

The video, like all the other entries, is a recorded screen-grab of choreographed game interactions, just like a play, with voice recordings and music in the background. The content of the video, on the other hand, is probably not like any other entry. It is a pointed barb at Swansong, a mean-spirited, rumor-milled caricature about drama that does not actually exist.

In the video, Relentless and Queen V are fighting a lesser beast in a forest along with two of Queen V's friends, Ringlet and Cherry Lane. Relentless uses his golden bow to take down the beast, while Queen V uses her healing abilities to keep Relentless safe, staying a sizeable distance away until the danger passes, along with her two friends who do not much of anything. When the beast is defeated, Relentless and Queen V reunite, and spend several minutes extoling their deep love and admiration for each other. And then, quite out of the blue, a character in red stomps into view, her outfit and styling very familiar. The character is called Swonsong - a single letter of difference, meaning the parody is unmistakable.

Swonsong behaves like a child, whining and throwing herself on the forest floor. The voice narrating her lines is deep like a man's, a clear nod to all the rumors about Swansong being played by a man in real life. Swonsong cries about how much she (he) loves Relentless, how much she (he) wants Relentless back, how jealous she (he) is of Queen V, and how betrayed she (he) is that Relentless would love someone else.

_"What did I do? Why am I not good enough?"_ Swongsong asks, right before she (he) trips over Cherry Lane's foot, bashes her (his) head onto a convenient rock, and dies.

Queen V, in a syrup-sweet voice, says to Relentless, "_I'm so sorry you had to suffer with that._"

And Relentless says, "_Now that I have you, I never have to suffer again_."

They walk off and leave Swonsong's corpse right by the dead beast, another unmistakable message. The video ends with a message to urge voting, and then that's the end of it.

A rather uncharitable part of Bella notes the amateurish video editing. _Leah could do so much better_, she thinks clinically. But a much larger part of her is deeply insulted by the video, and it is that part of her that has her squeezing the plushie against her stomach, a burn in the back of her eyes. The video is stark and unapologetic bullying. She might as well be getting a public swirly - that's how humiliating it is.

But beyond the humiliation - beyond the _hurt_ of the video - is a bubbling, churning fury within the usually calm still-waters of her mind. She feels a rather indignant, righteous anger building between her ribs.

Cherry Lane she can understand being involved, since Cherry Lane was so angry about what happened to Hive, even if Hive was fine with it. Cherry Lane is exactly the sort of rabid snake who would engineer something like this. The fact that Queen V posted it is also less than shocking, since she and Cherry Lane evidently run in the same circle - birds of a feather and all that. She can accept all of that and write the whole thing off as something mean that came from mean girls. Its hurtful and humiliating, yes, but it's the exact kind of catty nonsense that girls like to attack each other with - and Bella, who has been dealing with jealous, catty girls her whole life, is somewhat inured to it.

The anger and the majority of the hurt comes from the fact that Relentless participated in this - and painted himself to be put-off by the fake Swansong's interest in him, as if _he_ wasn't the one asking _her_ for personal information for _months_. Whatever came of their alliance, Bella never thought Relentless would do something like this. It's beyond the pale and completely out of step with what she knows about his personality. How does this jive with his cutting need for success, unless he is willing to sacrifice Swansong to get what he wants - whatever that is?

Bella thought they were friends. She wouldn't do this to a friend - and _that_ is what hurts the most.

Bella doesn't even bother to log out of the game. She snaps the lid of her laptop closed, scoots away from her computer, and curls onto her side with her heart hammering harshly in her chest. She'll have to message Janeway later, apologize for being so abrupt.

But for right now, Bella does exactly what she wants to curb to hurt and anger.

She pouts - and absolutely does not cry, not even the smallest tear, not even if her pillowcase says differently.

* * *

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**First Beach be like WHOA #myocean #firstbeach #seemysea  
(Picture Attachment:  
A panoramic view of First Beach in La Push, the pebbly beach, driftwood stacks, and choppy ocean-blue water lapping at shore.)

Rose Hale **ʘ****byanyothername  
**I see your beach and raise you mine #myocean #seemysea #santamonica  
(Picture Attachment:  
A panoramic view of sandy beach in Santa Monica, the golden sand, the cloudless sky, and the gentle aqua-blue water dotted with surfers on the crests of waves.)

Alice Bee **ʘ****aliceseesyou  
**Oh wow! I'm so jealous!

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**Are you trying to fight me **ʘ****byanyothername**

Rose Hale **ʘ****byanyothername  
**My beach is better than yours **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis**

L Clearwater **ʘ****Cl****earlyFlimingThis  
**It's on **ʘ****byanyothername **#trythisbeach

Bella Swan **ʘ****t****helittlecygnet  
**Okay, enough, you're both pretty

* * *

Bella's hurt feelings don't last for long - she isn't the type to linger, after all, because negative emotions take too much energy. She has no interest in holding a grudge, and she doesn't want to be _sad_. Her still waters don't hold for that kind of turbulence. But that doesn't mean that she's just going to take the insult laying down - she is her father's daughter, and Charlie Swan believes in justice.

So, sometime during the night when the seething had cooled to a veneer of ice, Bella had hatched a plan. The idea itself is one born from the high road. She won't be so petty as to meet them tic-for-tac, because that's a waste of effort. No, if Bella is going to get even, she's going to do it _thoroughly_.

And what better way than to get the justice she deserves for the new tarnish on her reputation than by winning that ridiculous video conference? She won't win by retaliating with a mean-spirited video, either. She'll win by crafting something so objectively amazing that her sheer _excellence_ will put Cherry Lane, Relentless, and Queen V to shame.

Is this a lesson she has gleaned from Master Culler? Perhaps. But the point still stands - when they go low, the best thing to do is go high. And Bella, who doesn't dwell in asinine concepts like _revenge_, is dead-set on keeping her moral high ground.

And she'll win with it, too.

Bella logs on for her regularly scheduled meet up with Master Culler and his unofficial guild, meet them right beside River Town near the center of the game map. Swansong is the last to arrive, and when she does she is immediately met with a barrage of messages. She smiles easily as she reads them, a part of her releasing all tension.

《 **Pestulent: **swansong!

《 **Pestulent: **we saw the video and it's really shitty!

《 **Pestulent: **poor quality and bad acting and we're already plotting

《 **Pythagoras: **we'll avenge you

《 **Pythagoras: **they went way too far for a contest

《 **Hermit: **they're a bunch of cunts

《 **Pestulent: **hey hey language around the lady

《 **Hermit: **I can say it because I'm English you knob

《 **Pestulent: **you're the knob you noob

Bella giggles. She doesn't even know these guys - they've only played together a few times, really - but they're so protective of her. She believes that they're honestly perturbed by the video, maybe even as offended as Bella was. It reminds her of the way Seth can be like a rabid dog when he feels like Leah or Bella have been slighted, or the way the boys in La Push banded against Mike Newton that one summer he was following her everywhere.

She's been lucky in life to find protectors, even when she didn't ask to be protected. It seems like she's found more in the crew that Master Culler plays with.

《 **Master Culler: **enough

《 **Master Culler: **we don't need to talk about it if it makes Swansong uncomfortable

》**Swansong**: I'm not uncomfortable

Bella gathers herself. Her plan relies on cooperation from these players. She's reasonably certain that Pestulent, Pythagoras, and even the taciturn Hermit will be willing to help her, but she isn't sure about Master Culler. He's a master player who isn't known for dallying his time with random contests - but he _did_ also go through the trouble of setting Hive straight. She can't predict him, and that means she needs to draw on her courage.

》**Swansong**: actually I want to talk about it

》**Swansong**: I have an idea

Bella relays her idea as clearly and succinctly as possible. She's read through the contest requirements and understands that the primary goal of the contest is to create a new storyline that can be adapted into game play, probably something that can be used for a quest. Bella, of course, has several ideas given that she wants to design games. She thinks she has one that can work, but the scale is so large that it will take time - so she knows exactly what she's asking these players.

》**Swansong**: it's a big commitment so I understand if you don't have the time

《 **Pythagoras: **for this I have nothing but time

《 **Hermit: **I'm free

《 **Pestulent:** you know Swansong, your actually kind of devious

《 **Pestulent:** your gonna kill them with kindness AND take their prize

《 **Pestulent:** I'm SO into this idea

The only one left is Master Culler. Bella curbs her expectations. He's been vague, but she's gathered that he has a busy schedule, which is why they have to schedule training. If he doesn't have the time, then she can understand it.

So she is surprised when, seemingly without any hesitation, Master Culler agrees to her plan. He even goes so far as to say that he _likes_ her plan, which has Bella blinking in delayed surprise. She doesn't know why she finds it so shocking, really - Master Culler is turning out to be kind, in his own way.

They spend some minutes chatting about plans for their video contest entry. Bella will be in charge of writing the script, on top of Swansong having the biggest role; the others, with the exception of Master Culler, will be playing supporting characters with their main and sub accounts. They pick and day and time to do the bulk of recording next week and Bella says that she will ask her sister to help with the video editing. Master Culler insists that Swansong be the one to submit the video, and then that is that, and they move on to their usual training.

It's only after an instance dungeon and duels with each other that Master Culler sends her a private message.

《 **Master Culler:** are you really okay?

》**Swansong**: can I be honest?

《 **Master Culler: **of course

》**Swansong**: okay well…my feelings were hurt

》**Swansong**: that video was very mean

》**Swansong**: I can't even comprehend being that awful on purpose

》**Swansong**: but that was yesterday and I've moved on

《 **Master Culler: **you're no longer hurt by it?

《 **Master Culler: **not angry or sad?

Bella marvels at his effort to clarify. This is new from Master Culler. She supposes that they've grown familiar enough with each other that this level of concern is friendly - but from Master Culler, it feels _weighty_ and _important_ and _momentous_. She can't help but allow her truest thoughts to the fore.

》**Swansong**: the best revenge is to live well, right?

《 **Master Culler:** you're very wise, Swansong

《 **Master Culler: **I'm relieved you aren't upset

Bella doesn't know how to reply to that, but she does smile at her laptop screen, feeling warm. Master Culler cares about her feelings. She's touched, deeply, that her emotional state matters to him. She's sure that he wants to know for the sake of the tournament, because gamers play best when they have clear minds, but still - the fact that he made the concerted effort to specifically ask is amazing to her.

Master Culler cares about her feelings - and it's all Bella can do to bask in the knowledge with a bloom of warmth spreading from her chest.

* * *

**A/N: Ah, feels are happening! Kind of! It's progress at least! I wonder if anyone caught the new pattern emerging on social media yet? Too soon? Ah, well I'll just wait for guesses!**

**Fans of the C-Drama will recognize the spirit of the video contest entries. I had EMOTIONS watching this entire arc the first time, and I am _going to capture those emotions here_. **

**As always, be brutally honest. Be smart. Wash your hands. Stay cautious - warm weather isn't a free pass for _shit_.**

**~Rae**


	19. twitch live stream: double dungeon

[Twitch - Live Stream]

**Swanning  
**Dawn of Warcraft

(The first view of the live stream is an extremely close-up view of Swanning, her peachy skin bleached by the light of the web-cam as she continues to fiddle with the angle. Every single one of her freckles is visible, their smattering heavy over the bridge of her nose and dusted over the top of her cheeks. Her brow is furrowed, a lightly inquisitive bend as she leans back just enough to confirm the angle. There is barking in the background.

"Sorry, sorry," she's muttering. "My brother got a dog and I just noticed the camera was - ah, there we go. Sorry, again. Things have been a little hectic here at home..."

Swanning leans back from the camera, settling into her seat. She waves at the camera in that same awkward way as always, introducing herself and her channel. She says a few casual hellos to her most frequent viewers who are greeting her via chat, seeming to ease into her usual persona - polite, sweetly ribbing, just shy enough to be charming despite her casual confidence.

"So, I was reading my mentions on Twitter," she begins, switching the screen view so her face is in the corner and her desktop is at the forefront. She double-clicks on the Dawn of Warcraft icon, pulling up her account quickly. "And I noticed that some of you wanted me to double my stream. And I thought, well, why not? It's summer break - yes, I am happy to be home, thank you for asking - and as of right now I have the time to spare. But," she warns playfully. "This is a one-time gig, okay? Probably."

**/KLR/** girl you know we'll take anything you give us

**/deardirt/** I'm with klr on this one

**/deardirt/** do whatever and keep making a good name for us gamer girls

**/vern/** long live the sisterhood, I guess

**/q_ed/** don't be a dick dude

Swanning wrinkles her nose at the live chat, but doesn't comment on it. Instead, she does a quick walk-through of how to equip a Dawn of Warcraft character in preparation for a dungeon.

"It's always helpful to know what you're up against," she says, helpfully spinning through her inventory for her avatar. "The first dungeon we're doing today is going to be one of the side quests near the Dell that players get caught up on. It's about mid-level difficulty, so if your account is at least 50 you should be able to access this quest."

On the screen, Swanning's Dawn of Warcraft avatar melts in from the shadows. Swanning is a Warlock class Void Elf, with pallid grey skin and black eyes, black veins crawling along her skin like a mask; the avatar is appropriately decked out in black armor accented with blood-red ruby stones and fabric, with a whip at one hip and a long staff across her back. Swanning melts from shadow to shadow, and explains how the quest is meant to work. The reward at the end of the quest is a general skill book and, if you're lucky, a casket of yin iron.

**/pedro/** I love yin iron its so useful

**/q_ed/** but common, so is it really useful?

**/pedro/** is air useful to you q, or is it too common? Geez man

Swanning snorts, a wry smile dancing on her lips. "Pedro is right, Q," she says. "Yin iron is really common, but you can smith a lot of things with it - weapons and armor, even tools that are helpful to have, like buckets. But yin iron is also highly reactive to magic. If your alchemy skill is high enough, you can use blacksmithing to create a yin iron weapon, and then imbue it with all sorts of things." Swanning scans her eyes over the comments, then hums thoughtfully. "Have I done it? Well, I'm working on it on my master account. But I know of a few high ranking characters who have used alchemy to transform a yin iron base into ultra rare materials, so it is possible…Oh, who? Like specifically? Well, anyone high on the equipment ranking has probably done it, like Master Culler on my server…"

**/KLR/** oooh ive heard of him

**/ultrontron/** great great great player

Swanning beams at the camera. "He is, isn't he? Nobody can play like him. It's really amazing to watch, if you ever get the chance."

**/ratherbealone/** he's alright

**/deardirt/** nobody can play like swanning!

**/KLR/** I agree!

**/KLR/** culler might be good, but swanning is great too!

**/ratherbealone/** he's overrated

**/ratherbealone/** swanning is much better, right maestro?

**/vern/** why are we talking about some rando

**/vern/** do the dungeon already

**/pedro/** here we go again, stop being a dick man

Swanning isn't paying attention to the chat anymore. Instead, her focus is directed at the game, where she is now walking her avatar into a cave. "Alright, so you shouldn't have to worry too much about visibility here - there are plenty of torches, see, and the cave doesn't have a lot of bends, so there aren't any surprises. What you should be looking at is top of the cave," she explains briskly. "The thing about this quest that trips players up is how misleading it is. You go into a cave and you're expecting the beast at the back, but that's not the case. The cave is home to this _huge_ bat creature thing, okay, and it _totally_ comes out of nowhere when you reach the back of the cave. See, look."

Swanning walks through the cave, right under a big space set high between stalagmites that seems to stretch into utter blackness - except for a blink-and-miss-it flicker of yellow eyes.

"The quest is structured so that you _have_ to reach the back of the cave before the bat comes out," Swanning explains. "I could stand here for hours and that bat would still be there, so you don't have to worry about it now. The key to this quest is being prepared for the bat when it comes - and it will come. You don't want to be taken by surprise."

**/q_ed/** what are you planning

**/ultrontron/** how do you get the jump on something programmed to jump

**/pedro/** yeah I don't get it either

**/deardirt/** duh

**/deardirt/** if you know its coming you can ambush it back

Swanning nods, her headset bobbing precariously. "That's exactly right, deardirt. The only way to beat this dungeon is to ambush the ambush. It's all about timing, so it might take a few tries," she says, and walks her avatar through the empty cave, which grows more narrow at the end. A few paces from the back wall, she stops. "Before you get to the very end, stop and make sure your inventory is prepared. It's helpful to have an antidote on hand - the bat is poisonous, so if it bites you, your HP just slowly trickles away into nothing….Ah, you'll also want to be prepared to move fast, and keep in mind that the bat's wings, while barbed, are going to prevent it from getting into tight spaces so - yep, that's right, try to focus on long-range attacks. Nice insight, killer."

**/KLR/** do you see that

**/KLR/** I have nice insight

**/deardirt/** teachers pet

**/KLR/** :p

**/pedro/** annoying

**/KLR/** bite me

Swanning demonstrates exactly what she had been talking about. She touches the back wall of the cave, then sprints backward, hugging the cave wall and finding an advantageous position stuck between two stalagmites. From there, she uses her whip on the gargantuan bat any time it tries to come near, zapping the bat with shadow magic and eating away its blood points in small chunks. She says that this method is not sustainable, but that it will buy time between greater attacks, and then goes on to demonstrate that, as well - Swanning leaps out, uses a banishment spell along with hits of her staff, and then tucks back in with her whip while her spell recharges. She explains that classes with long-range magic can also use spells to eat at the bat, and shows the best way to set spell arrays on the cave floors and walls to keep the bat trapped, immobilized for the final blows. When the bat disintegrates into a golden skill book, Swanning grins at the screen.

**/q_ed/** there she goes again making it look easy

**/pedro/** but what a strategy

**/ultrontron/** great great show

**/deardirt/** yeah but I can see how this might take a few tries

**/KLR/** right?

**/KLR/** too bad it's a solo quest, it would be easier with a group

**/q_ed/** unless your swanning that is

**/deardirt/** our queen don't need no man, thanks

Swanning, seeming to ignore the live chat for the time being, takes a long moment to walk through every inch of the cave to show other good hiding places. She talks about how different classes and abilities might have an advantage here or there that her own avatar would not, all with great knowledge. And then, with a cheeky smile, she reminds viewers to go back to the end of the cave, just in case a second prize is spit out.

"Never forget to double-check," she says sagely, and reaches the back of the cave where a cask of yin iron has tumbled out from a cluster of rocks from the cracked cave wall. She accepts the yin iron into her inventory, then opens the game map. "Alright, that was the first dungeon. Let's go to the second."

Moments later, after Swanning has melted into shadows, the screen shifts from black to open to an expansive, foggy, dead space of grey land. "This is the Boneyard," Swanning says, and then makes a point of zooming her view out to have a further glimpse of the area. There are several collections of bones from the remains of huge creatures, many skulls and ribs that are large enough to easily walk under. "The Boneyard is part of a scrapping quest. Essentially, it's you against these demonic vultures who want to add you to their collection. The goal of the quest is to find the beast core of one of the mammoths, so it's basically you and dozens of vultures on a treasure hunt. But I picked this quest because I thought it would be a good way to demonstrate mobility in dense terrain…"

**/KLR/** does this mean what I think it means

**/deardirt/** yes

**/deardirt/** it sounds like we might finally learn the secret sauce of swannings playing

**/pedro/** wait really?

**/vern/** no way that's true

**/KLR/** swanning is it true?

Swanning, who has been reading the chat this time, answers with a small smile. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm revealing a _secret_, really, but basically yeah. You guys have been asking for a better explanation for my maneuvering, so I figured this was the best place to show you…"

**/pedro/** wow we're learning an actual trade secret

**/ratherbealone/** now its going to get interesting right maestro

**/vern/** the fuck is maestro

**/ratherbealone/** your mom

**/vern/** fuck off

**/ratherbealone/** you first mate

Swanning chides, "Be nice," and the chat goes civil again.

She then starts explaining the importance of having an organized inventory, how essential it is to have things in easy reach to save time. She also talks about the best way to arrange skills on the dash, which can make or break any kind of duel. "Obviously, DOW demands a lot of coordination from players - the mouse is both a tool to control the camera and the more complex skills, and the keyboard is for maneuvering the avatar, as well as quick-skills that recharge faster…Ah, for my quick-skills, I usually like to set up short cuts with the middle keys on a QWERTY, so usually the F, R, E, G, H, V, B, T, and Y keys, because obviously you're A, S, D, and W keys are already spoken for…"

**/deardirt/** aren't those a little close together?

**/q_ed/** yeah seems a little risky

**/KLR/** but it makes sense

**/KLR/** not wasting extra time on the other side of the key board

"It does take practice," Swanning admits. "But here, look at the walk-on-air function - if my thumb is constantly holding down the space bar and I need to keep my nav keys moving, then I can only use my index finger to strike. See?" Swanning demonstrates, holding the avatar aloft while running through her quick-skills in the air. "It gets easier with time. This is the best way to boost your actions-per-minute..."

**/deardirt/** I guess but it seems like a lot

**/q_ed/** that's swanning for you I guess

**/ultrontron/** so cool

**/KLR/** wait so you hold down the space instead of tap?

**/KLR/** damn why didn't I think of that?

**/ratherbealone/** I'm impressed, aren't you impressed maestro?

Swanning, too busy explaining to KLR and deardirt why holding the space bar down is better, if not a little trickier, doesn't see the rest of the chat zooming by. But other viewers and people on the live chat can, so they see the reply to ratherbealone as clear as day.

**/maestro/** she always impresses me

The stream after that is a master class in how to maneuver an avatar in the air against air opponents, as well as how to take advantage of the terrain of a dungeon. Swanning proves herself to be cunning, leading vultures on a chase and intro traps, while at the same time reaching the bone core hidden in a giant skeleton. And at the end, after she answers countless questions and continues to demonstrate how to organize quick-skills on the keyboard, as well as how to use them in mid-maneuver, she gifts the viewers with another brilliant smile and a promise to another stream next weekend.

"Until next time, this is Swanning signing off!"

The live stream ends.)

* * *

**A/N: I think you guys know the important handles to pay attention to, right? ;) Someone is watching~~**

**Anyway! The next update will probably be next weekend! Until then, stay safe, wash your hands, and be smart!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	20. swan can fix a car all by herself

**[YouTube Video]**

Swan Can Fix Cars All By Herself! (A Music Video)  
**ClarityIsClear  
**30k Views / Posted 20 hours ago

(The first sound of the video is the quiet opening synth of a soft-beat pop song; the first image is a black backdrop with a text that waves into existence, like a mirage. It's the title of the video, followed by a smaller text -

_SWAN CAN FIX CARS ALL BY HERSELF_

_A Music Video_

_(feat. I Can Lift A Car by Walk The Moon)_

Next is a series of captured videos and sound, all set to the background music thumping and whispering away. Leah Clearwater giving the camera a peace-sign; the view of a now-familiar dashboard littered with fast food wrappers as a car rambles down an open road; Bella Swan sticking her tongue out while unseen companions laugh; Jacob Black spinning a wrench on his hand, then dropping it on his foot with a curse.

Leah Clearwater and the camera jostling around while she says, "Today we're going to be mechanics!"

The camera is following Bella Swan around a tiny auto shop, the wares stuffed onto shelves and the floor streaked with age-old grease stains. Bella Swan, wearing her hair in a bun with a white bandana as a headband and a set of denim skinny-jean overalls, tilts her head barely toward the camera, her eyes focused on browsing through a metal crate of small auto parts. "You're half right," she says.

"No, I'm totally right," Leah returns.

Bella picks up something small and silver, examining it from every angle before she puts it back. "We're not going to be mechanics," she corrects. "We're just _at_ the mechanics."

"Are you or are you not fixing mom's car?" Leah asks.

Bella hesitates.

"She is!" someone pipes up from another aisle.

"Could you or could you not let an actual mechanic fix it?" Leah presses.

"She could!" chimes in the same male voice.

Bella huffs. "It's just easier if I do it, _and_ cheaper, and besides, Mr. Johnson doesn't need to waste his time on little jobs when he can be fixing other things."

Jacob Black emerges from the aisle with a new plastic can of oil. He snorts. "Old Man Johnson doesn't need to be working jobs, period."

"He taught me everything I know," Bella defends.

"Sure, sure," Jacob agrees. "But that doesn't mean he shouldn't be working by now."

The video speeds up through the rest of Bella shopping at the auto shop, fast-forwarding through her bickering with Jacob Black and purchasing things from a white-haired man, presumably Mr. Johnson, who does indeed look old. The video continues to fast-forward as they drive back home, the road blurring while the chorus of the song sounds out.

When the video goes back to real-time, it settles on a scene of Bella Swan popping open the hood of a car at least a decade old, with Jacob Black scooting under the car on his back on a skateboard. Bella leans over into hood, reaching her hands into the engine.

"Sue was due for an oil change anyway," Jacob says from beneath the car.

"Then why are you only doing it now?" Bella asks, frowning at the engine.

"Uhhh," he hedges.

Leah snorts behind the camera and says, "You forgot, didn't you? Idiot."

"Well, I'm doing it now, aren't I?" he blusters.

Bella smiles wryly, pulls her hand out of the engine, and crouches down to rifle through a red metal tool box. "We're lucky it's not a blown head gasket like I thought," she says. She plucks out a small wrench, a oil-stained red cloth, and a small tube. Then she shifts, bending her head to peek at the underside of the car. The camera follows her, and soon the image of Jacob Black holding a flashlight between his teeth as he fiddles with the underside takes over the screen. Bella squints at the car. "Crack in the oil pan, then?"

Jacob grunts, probably in affirmation, because Bella nods and stands and leans back over the hood.

"What are you doing?" Leah asks from behind the camera with unabashed curiosity.

Bella taps her nail on some wide, rectangular part of the car that has a four large holes at the top. "This is the gasket," she explains. "Jake is taking care of the oil pan, but I'm going to be sealing the gasket, get a few more months out of it or more. See, the gasket controls the flow of fluids to the engine, so when it starts getting stressed it can fry the whole engine - and I noticed yesterday that Mom's car gets a little too hot too quickly, so I'm thinking that the gasket is starting to crack - and I'm right, see, if you look there? Tiny crack right around the intake manifold is why the coolant isn't working as efficiently. I'll clean it up, and seal it, and check the engine over to tighten everything up, and the car should be just fine."

"Right."

"I totally lost you, didn't I?"

"Yep."

"Great."

"Hey, no, it is great!" Leah hurries to exclaim. "You can fix a car up all by yourself!"

"And with Jake," Bella reminds her, already leaning back into the engine.

"He doesn't count," Leah decides.

"Hey!" comes the muffled shout from beneath the car.

Bella and Leah snicker, and then the music thrums louder through the video. There is another fast-forwarded montage of Bella and Jake fixing the car; Jake will roll in and out from beneath the car; Bella will move through all the engine, wiping things down and using the wrench; once, they switch places and Bella comes out from beneath the car with an oily rag, which she tosses right at Jake's face, something that is followed by a chase around and around the car.

And the end of the video, when the chorus is repeating itself, Bella Swan climbs into the car to start the engine, then pops out to give Jacob Black a double high-five, streaked in oil on her bare arms, hands, and face, but beaming brilliantly all the same.

The video ends.)

**Comments **

NoiceNoise  
Is anyone else worried about old man johnson at the end of this? ClarityIsClear, we need to know how old man johnson is

**ClarityIsClear**  
OMJ is cool! Don't worry - his son actually runs the shop now, OMJ just likes to show up for work. He's a cool old dude, he just forgets that he's already retired!

Yaheard  
Nice follow up to the montage of Bella learning from Johnson way back when! And when they started working on that little bug of Jake's.

HeartsAPlenty  
Oh Jake ^o^

twiiilit  
Still taken, pretty sure still raging with chaotic bisexual energy, sis

HeartsAPlenty  
Let me live twiilit

PeterPanda  
This is so sick!

_(Maestro likes PeterPanda's comment)_

**View more comments**

* * *

**A/N: Hmmm, some other ~developments~ with the commentary, eh? Building it up, y'all. Next update will probably be this weekend. Stay safe until then!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	21. chapter 11

**[chapter_11]**

The dining room is full of silence, only occasionally punctuated by the clinking of fine silver utensils across antique china. The room itself is tastefully ornate, decorated in a scheme of dark walnut wood, a creamy Persian rug across hardwood flooring, and subtle brocade wallpaper in shades of deep navy and hunter green; at either end of the room are glass French doors that open to a sprawling garden that overlooks the Bay; a crystal chandelier hovers overhead, sending sparkling light across the long table. There are five people seated at the table, with the fifth proudly sitting at the head with a vaguely contemptuous expression on his strong-boned face.

It is yet another month and Masen is once again in the dining room of the familial Cullen home, an estate nearly as old as San Francisco. The dining room is just one room of dozens that exemplify the breadth of the Cullen wealth.

To say the Cullen family has a reputation in high society would be a gross understatement. What the Cullen brood has is a _legacy_, one dating back to the first clever enterprisers who struck gold during the Gold Rush. What began as businesses in jewelry, banking, and railroads has grown into a vast conglomerate of businesses - in hospitals, colleges, small and corporate finance, technology, and transportation. The Cullen family has old money that is constantly being reinvested to create new money, and the family itself has been classed in the highest echelons of wealth since at least the 1980s. The Cullen legacy is one that has been passed down, father to son to father to son, since it was first established, and Grandfather Cullen, the current tyrannical on the business throne, has _never_ let it be forgotten that the legacy is only for blood relatives.

Meaning, of course, that Masen should never get too comfortable with the family, because he wouldn't be seeing a dime unless he could prove paternity - which he can't. Thomas Cullen, his adoptive father, is a kind man who had adopted the son of his late best friend out of the goodness of his heart, but the son in question has never wanted to find a replacement for Ed Masen. He took a name from each father, biological and adoptive, to honor those both, but he hasn't ever forgotten that he is not a true Cullen. His tie to the family is in name only, and he has never tried to claim otherwise. Getting _that_ through the thick, elitist skull of Grandfather Cullen is something he no longer wastes effort on.

They will never see eye to eye. Masen is unbothered by it at this point. He is twenty-three now and is no longer ruffled by the acidic tongue of the Cullen patriarch. Which is why he continues eating his perfectly cooked filet mignon peaceably when Grandfather Cullen makes another snide remark.

"The orphan is here again, I see," he observes, cutting irritably into his dinner. There is a near-empty glass of red wine at his elbow, notably the only wine that has been touched at the table. It is his third glass, by Masen's count. "Encroaching on yet another family dinner. Thomas Cullen, when _will_ you learn that you cannot let leeches gorge themselves? I told you once fifteen years ago and I'll tell you again now - if you let maggots get near you, they start to _fester_."

Masen spears a sautéed mushroom, allowing its buttery flavor to melt over his pallet before he chews. He sees Carlisle shoot him a concerned glance and blinks languidly in response.

He wishes that Carlisle would stop worrying about him. It's a futile wish. As Carlisle has told him before, it is the prerogative of older brothers to worry. At least Carlisle has finally learned to hold his tongue - it's no use for Grandfather Cullen to be irate with both of them, after all. The only reason he bothers to attend these monthly dinners now is because his adoptive parents request it of him. Monthly dinners are a Cullen family tradition, and no matter what Grandfather Cullen likes to say, Thomas and Anne Cullen _have_ made Masen part of the family.

This is something _they_ will not let be forgotten.

"Father, that's enough," Thomas Cullen says firmly. He shares many of the same facial features with Carlisle, a strong jaw, straight nose, and a wide forehead, but his golden hair is now streaked with silver.

"An urchin still sits at my table and still eats my food and still uses my family name," Grandfather Cullen fairly snarls. "It won't ever been enough, not until it learns its place."

Another bite of steak, this time with fluffed sweet potato. Delicious.

Anne Cullen delicately clears her throat. The silver glasses perched on the end of her nose do nothing to hide the pinch of unease at the corners of her blue eyes. "Carlisle," she begins. "Tell me how your residency is going? And that dear girl Esme?"

"Should be focusing his attention on the business, not playing doctor," Grandfather Cullen mutters, only _just_ under his breath.

Nobody bats an eye.

Carlisle smiles gently, almost fragile. "It's certainly a challenge. Some days are more difficult than others," he says, leaving out the fact that some days are more _difficult_ because he is splitting his time between the profession he loves and being the heir of the business he does not. "Esme is a godsend, truly. Mom, I really think I'm going to propose."

"Oh, that's _marvelous_!"

"That's great to hear, son."

"This girl, Esme, what is her pedigree?" Grandfather Cullen demands. "Is she another _scholar_, or does she come from a good family?"

Anne flinches minutely at the implication that she, from a family of educators, is somehow _not_ from a good family. Her being a professor has been a point of contention since she married Thomas Cullen. It might have been better had she not insisted on working such a _common_ job, but she had and her relationship with the Cullen patriarch has been rocky ever since. Her saving grace, as far as the misogynic bastard is concerned, is the fact that she gave birth to a hearty and hale Cullen heir.

Masen's fingers tighten just-so around his fork before he forces himself to relax his grip. It's much more difficult to _not_ be upset about Grandfather Cullen's cutting words when it is his adoptive mother under attack - but he has learned to keep his head. If there is anything Grandfather Cullen likes less than orphans and scholars, it is unwanted heroes who cannot bind their own business.

A memory of shattered glass, the sharp tang of scotch liquor, and the phantom sting of the scar on Masen's cheek reminds him to keep his mouth shut.

But even still - how many more of these dinners will he, even with all his endless patients, be able to endure? Grandfather Cullen grows more acerbic in his old age, a toxic presence that takes advantage of old family customs to respect the patriarch. How the Cullen's can sit here and pretend that a dragon is not breathing fires of judgment over them all has always baffled Masen. Surely, by now, even a pacifist would fight back?

Masen considers not attending the next monthly dinner, and then he considers the disappointment on his adoptive parents faces, and he, for once, does not know what to do.

He wonders what Bella Swan would do in this situation - and quickly makes the decision to do whatever he can to keep her far, far away from Grandfather Cullen. Even Carlisle keeps his Esme away from these dinners, as he should.

By now, Carlisle has finished giving the barest sketches of Esme Platt, a rising star working at a leading architect firm who had graduated with a major in Environmental Design at UC Berkeley last year. The only thing that quells Grandfather Cullen's growing hostility is the news that Esme is a daughter of the Platt family, another high society family heavily involved in real estate investment. Naturally, Grandfather Cullen approves of her family, but does not approve of her desire to work.

_Bigot_, Masen thinks coldly, finishing his dinner. He doesn't touch the wine at his elbow, and he has picked around the shellfish on the plate that he - and the rest of the family - knows he is allergic to. He will be hungry later, as he only ate half of the food on his plate, but he thinks that is rather the point. Grandfather Cullen, the petty asshole that he is, always makes sure to serve some kind of shellfish at these family dinners, likely for the express purpose of Masen leaving the dinner with hunger. Or, if Grandfather Cullen is particularly lucky, dead.

That level of pettiness would be admirable in anyone else, Masen knows. As it is, Masen has an EpiPen tucked into his pocket just in case. He never leaves home without it, but especially not when he knows he'll be dining with this old bastard of a patriarch.

"And you, Masen? How is your business venture?"

Masen offers a placid smile at his father's question. "It's going well. Our investors are eager to release our product."

"Waste of money if you ask me. Investing in some nonsense computer game, made by an ill-mannered ingrate of all things? Fools, all of them. Might as well throw their money away," Grandfather Cullen blathers.

Masen's polite smile does not waver, even if the rest of his family flinches or, in the case of Thomas, throws a withering glare at the head at the table. "In fact, we are set to launch our game in the next few weeks. We're all excited. Our projections are promising."

Grandfather Cullen might mutter something derisive under his breath again, but it's swallowed by his next liberal swig of wine.

"Well, that's wonderful to hear! It's quite something, I think, to start a business from scratch," Anne says with an encouraging smile. "Both my sons are brilliant, aren't they, Thomas?"

"Prides of the family, to be sure," Thomas agrees.

"I knew they would grow up to be so successful," Anne gushes, albeit in a refined fashion. She is speaking pointedly, slathering praise on to both sons for being so smart and savvy, for being such productive members of society, for living up to the Cullen legacy. She says all of these things on purpose, a series of passive-aggressive barbs that have Carlisle shyly preening and Thomas sitting smugly.

Masen shifts his gaze directly to Grandfather Cullen, a silent challenge. _Did you hear that_? He asks silently. _It doesn't matter what you say, I am _still _one of you, and you can't do anything to change it_.

Grandfather Cullen sneers at him and Masen's smile widens, just a fraction. Like Anne, he does so love getting under that old bastard's skin. While he'd much rather be anywhere but here, being respectful to his adoptive parents is more important than his own discomfort, even when he was still young enough to be bothered by Grandfather Cullen. If he can do anything to make the asshole equally as discomfited, then Masen is satisfied.

Seeing Grandfather Cullen angrily mope over crème brulee is the best way to end another awful dinner, after all.

"I'm sorry about Grandfather," Carlisle apologizes later, out in the circular driveway after their parents drive away. Carlisle is fretting, pushing his hand through his hair with some agitation. "You'd think by now he would have…But no, it's the same as before. Worse than when we were kids, even. It must be so awful. It's awful just hearing about it."

Masen leans back against Carlisle's car, a shining white Mercedes he keeps carefully maintained. Hands in his pockets, Masen rolls his shoulders. "It is what it is."

"You shouldn't have to listen to it," Carlisle persists.

"Mm. Maybe, maybe not," Masen says noncommittally. After all, it's his own fault for attending the dinner - he knows what to expect by now, and he's built up a certain tolerance. In the right mood, Grandfather Cullen can even be somewhat amusing, an old white man, the epitome of problematic patriarchy, who can't seem to move the fuck on. Yeah, that can be funny, in a way.

Carlisle sighs heavily and moves to lean beside Masen. "It's times like these I wish I was a smoker," he says conversationally, craning his head back to look at the stars visible through all the light pollution. "It seems cathartic, doesn't it? To just sit and inhale?"

"Aren't you a doctor?" Masen asks wryly. His eyes are dawn to the moon steadily rising over the Bay, the Golden Gate Bridge stretching out over dark waters.

"I am," Carlisle confirms gravely. "So I can't be a smoker. It's a slow poison to your health, you know. And I wouldn't want to be a hypocrite, telling patients not to smoke when I'm a smoker myself."

That's just like Carlisle, not wanting to upset hypothetical patients. Even when he muses in stress he is a good person, down to the core.

Masen can't imagine being that good. He doesn't think many people are. It's part of the reason why it's so shocking he is the grandson of the most horrible person Masen has ever met. Perhaps Carlisle simply takes after Anne's side of the family.

"Marijuana," Masen suggests after a beat.

"Too mind altering."

"Alcohol."

"I need my liver. And I don't want to turn out like Grandfather."

Fair points. Masen's lip twitches as he offers his next suggestion, totally facetious by now. "Goat yoga."

Carlisle shoves his shoulder, barking out a laugh. "Where did you even hear about that?"

"Peter," Masen answers promptly.

"That sounds like Peter," Carlisle says, still laughing. "But I don't think I'll be doing _goat yoga_ anytime soon. I'll just stick with running for stress relief."

"An acceptable alternative."

"Maybe." Carlisle sighs again. "It works better when I can run away from what's bothering me, but it seems like no matter how much I run, I always arrive at the same problems."

Masen looks at his brother, considering the faint smudges beneath his eyes, the prickle of blond facial hair gathering at his chin. Carlisle came to this dinner directly from a shift at the hospital, and Masen suspects before that shift he had put in hours at the company, doing his duties as the Cullen heir to learn the ropes of the business. Carlisle is tired. Carlisle is torn between his heart and his head. Carlisle is the type of man who will tear himself apart just to appease everyone, and Masen wonders when he will break from it. Not for the first time Masen wishes that Grandfather Cullen wasn't such a blithering stain on humanity, because otherwise Masen could have taken on the responsibilities of the Cullen business and left Carlisle to become the world-renowned doctor he is destined to be.

But that is a fantasy. Grandfather Cullen will never allow the reins to be handed to Masen, and Thomas Cullen is in no position to change that right now, and that means that Carlisle will have to continue to endure. They are all stuck in their roles - for now - and there is nothing to be done about it - because Carlisle will not give up being a doctor and Grandfather Cullen will not give up his power. It is a stalemate of the greatest order.

Masen straightens up, stepping away from the car. He catches Carlisle's eye with a solemn nod of his chin. "You should go home, get some sleep."

Carlisle fixes him with a frank stare, reading all the words Masen does not say, then squeezes his eyes shut. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll go home." He pauses as he rounds the side of the car. "What about you?"

"Thought I'd take the train."

"That's two hours," Carlisle points out. "I could just drive you."

Masen shakes his head, quirks his lips. "I like the train," he answers simply. He doesn't add that he thinks Carlisle could use the space, could use the time it takes to drive back to decompress. He doesn't need to say it. Carlisle already knows, and he looks grateful for the chance to escape - even if the guilt of it still pinches at the corners of his mouth.

Masen waits until the taillights of Carlisle's car have disappeared before he starts down the winding trail of the driveway, the great Cullen estate looming over his shoulder.

He'll take his time getting home.

* * *

Peter  
Hey have you seen this script?  
It's so sick  
Swansong is a genius

Masen  
_(Read at 10:22p)_

Peter  
I know you're awake  
I can see your light

Masen  
_(Read at 10:24p)_

Peter  
You're such a dick  
Idk what Bella Swan sees in you  
Or what Swansong sees  
Whatever  
Point is she can do a lot better okay

Masen  
:)

Peter  
Man fuck you

* * *

It had been something they talked about when they were first establishing Midnight Sun and confronting the issue that Alistair is the only one who had any access to large sums of money. It's all well and good to make a start-up company out of a Stanford dorm room, but what are they supposed to do when they graduate? They'd need a place to work - and a place to live.

The solution had been inspired. Unconventional for sure, but inspired. Between Alistair's deep pockets reaching all the way back to England and Masen's monthly living stipend wrangled for him by Anne Cullen, a large enough pool of money had been made do make a nuanced purchase. They'd started planning for it during their last semester, finding a real estate agent for commercial property, getting a contractor for a remodel, and even hiring his brother's girlfriend out of her architectural firm to create an entirely eco-friendly, multi-functional building just outside of the heart of Palo Alto. The result is a logically sound construct that is both a work building and a set of apartments for the four founding members of Midnight Sun.

The building, made entirely of clay-red brick, is a callback to the open industrial design of the late 1950's, which was when the building was first a packing plant for a local bakery. Today, the building has undergone vast changes, the first of which is a state-of-the-art security system masked as a sleek glass and steel door, a white neon sign reading _Midnight Sun_ hanging right above it. The subtly continues throughout the rest of the building, which has been refurbished with sustainable materials that marry minimalism with neo-industrial; brick walls, restored floors, stark white walls, steel and chrome fixtures, and Edison bulbs throughout.

The first of three floors is the work space, which opens immediately after passing the long, white-padded benches sitting on either side of the doors. The work space is open concept, dozens of stand-to-sit desks in clusters separated only by neon signs hanging over each cluster and partial glass-and-steel walls acting as both screens and storage shelves with mesh wire baskets; computers are already set up at each desks, the clusters coded by color, all intended so every employee is working at the same level. There are only two closed spaces, each of them distinguished by glass doors and long horizontal glass windows; the first is a conference room, a narrow white-topped table, a large viewing screen at the back, and a dozen black computer chairs; the second is Masen's personal office where he will be juggling other aspects of the business. Near the front of the space, just to the side of one long bench, is an open kitchen, a steel counter top with white cabinets, a tall refrigerator, and several small appliances, save a coffee pot. The office bathroom - unisex - is on the other side of the kitchen area. Right between the bench and the kitchen is a diminutive door, painted the same white as the walls and protected with a coded door handle that leads to the upper levels.

The second floor is where Peter, Emmett, and Alistair's apartments are located. The minimalist-industrial theme from the office space continues in the hallway for the three apartments, each of which have a bathroom, large bedroom, living area, and kitchen. Masen hadn't seen much of these high-ceiling apartments, but he knows that each has been personalized to taste. He'd seen Alistair with black-out curtains and caught both Emmett and Peter carting in boxes of collector memorabilia for games, animes, and comic books. There is a shared laundry room on this floor, and something like a lounge made of two couches facing each other dead-center right in front of the laundry area, which is tucked into a nook just to the side of the stairs.

The wood-and-steel stairs go up another floor to Masen's accommodations, which is more like a loft than an actual apartment. His space is another open concept for the most part, the divisions in his rooms marked by frosted sliding glass doors. His kitchen, dining, and living room spaces are all furnished with black leather, white and grey fabrics, steel, and glass; his bedroom is much the same, dominated by a platform bed and a closet built into the wall. Between the bedroom and living room is a desk for his personal computer and an organized collection of gaming equipment. The space is designed for function more than anything else, which Masen appreciates. His concessions for comfort are the plush cushions of the couch, the ergonomic chair at his desk, and a leafy green plant on his coffee table that is already dying.

Masen is, overall, pleased by how the building turned out. Alistair's down payment secured the long-time lease of the building, which has been approved for multi-purpose use, and the monthly expenses for utilities will be easily paid for with Masen's stipend. He considers the work-home arrangement a stroke of particular brilliance.

But already he is lamenting the fact he didn't request a separate laundry area for himself. He should have guessed that Peter would take any opportunity to strike up a conversation, especially following last night's texts.

Peter sidles up to where Masen is carefully measuring laundry detergent, drumming his fingers on the dryer. "So, uh, what's your plan anyway? With Bella Swan?"

Masen pours in the detergent, closes the lid, sets the washer to the right setting. "Plan?"

"Yeah. Like, how are you going to…" Peter trails off and squints. "I mean, you _are_ planning on dating her, right?"

Masen, not in the habit of answering obvious questions, doesn't even bother to reply.

Peter cackles, clapping his hands with glee. "Oh, _shit_! I knew it! You like her! So you must have a plan, right?"

Masen does, in fact, have a plan. Masen has a plan for everything, and he definitely has a plan for wooing Bella Swan. He's already started on it, and he is objectively doing well. "Mm," he hums, if only to stop Peter's victorious crowing.

Masen eyes the washer, then moves to sit on one of the perfectly comfortable dove grey couches, their cushions not too firm or too soft. He briefly considers going back to his loft, but he doesn't trust Peter alone with his clothes because Masen is not an idiot and Peter can't resist a decent opportunity for a prank. Instead, he simply sits and waits for Peter to lose interest.

It will happen eventually. Even Peter will get bored if Masen stops acknowledging him.

Peter throws himself sideways on the opposite couch. "Wait, let me guess," Peter says brightly. "Uh, you're going to plan this massive, wild reveal, like a flash mob or something, and surprise her!"

Masen stares at him flatly.

"Yeah, that's not quite right," Peter admits. "Hmm….Oh, I know! You'll send her flowers and chocolates and stuff! Take the romantic angle, really lay it on thick and sweep her off her feet!"

Masen mostly succeeds in not showing a visible reaction, but even his self control isn't enough to completely tame the curl of his lip at the idea of bombarding Swansong with _roses_ and _boxes of chocolates_.

Emmett, apparently coming back home from picking up boxes of pizza and apparently having heard at least some of Peter's babbling, steps off the stairs and chokes on laughter. "Dude, you're not thinking right," Emmett tells Peter. He crosses the hall to plop down beside Peter on the couch. The scent of mat and onions and baked cheese wafts thickly through the room when Emmett unceremoniously opens a box and takes a giant bite out of a slice. "You gotta think like a fucking mastermind," he says around a mouthful. "Like an evil, smart one. Less Darth Vader, more Senator Palpatine."

Peter nods his understanding, eyeing the pizza hungrily. Emmett passes a slice and Peter grins, takes a bite, and then proceeds to talk with his mouth open as well. Masen is glad Alistair is missing for this conversation, if only because he would be genuinely appalled by the lack of basic manners and Masen doesn't need to hear _that_ lecture when all he wants to do is his laundry before Monday morning.

"So, like, you're gonna…what? Make her fall for you through the game and then when you're sure she's fallen for Master Culler you'll meet her in real life?" Peter chortles. When Masen says nothing to deny him, and instead arches his brows in mild interest, Peter almost spits his pizza out. "What? Fuck off, no way I guess right!"

"Mm."

Peter gapes, astonished.

Emmett, on the other hand, snaps his fingers and points at Masen. "You goddamn Sith Lord," he laughs. "I think I'm proud!"

"No way is that going to work!" Peter exclaims earnestly.

Masen very much disagrees. In fact, he's banking on this exact plan being successful, because he doesn't know how else to approach Bella Swan without coming off like a complete stalker unless he manufactures a natural progression of their in-game marriage. Which means more patience, of course, but he considers the trade-off worth the effort.

He doesn't quite understand why Peter seems to dead-set to disagree. Usually this is the exact kind of plan that Peter would be salivating over. And yet…

Interesting.

"It's Masen," Emmett says confidently. "Of course it'll work. What else is he supposed to do? Go up to Bella and be like, _hey, yeah, we're already married and I've been cyberstalking you to satisfy my lovesickness but now I'm meeting you out of the blue because, like I said, we're already married in the game so I figured, yeah, why not_? He can't do that! He has to do it this way."

"It won't work!" Peter whines. "Shit like that _never_ works!"

Emmett scoffs. "It definitely will."

Peter thrusts out his hand, slick with pizza grease. "Bet on it."

Emmett's eyes gleam. "Oh, you're on, Pete."

While they're busy setting the parameters of their bet, Masen silently switches his washed clothes to the dryer and disappears back to his loft. He'll risk wrinkles this time, if only to get rid of the next phase of _that_ conversation.

* * *

Carlisle  
Congratulations on the company  
You're officially starting tomorrow?

Masen  
Yes

Carlisle  
Esme wants to know if  
everything is satisfactory  
She has some concerns about the  
space being too empty

Masen  
It's fine  
She did a great job

Carlisle  
Esme says she'll be dropping  
some plants by later this week  
She says it will "make the space work"  
I have no idea what that means

Masen  
Nothing easy to kill

Carlisle  
Excuse me?

Masen  
The plants  
Nothing easy to kill

Carlisle  
I'll let her know

Masen  
(thumbs up emoji)

* * *

Monday is, in a word, chaotic. As the first official day of business for Midnight Sun, there are a lot of basic things that need to be taken care of. Employees must be oriented. Key cards must be programmed. Work expectations and current projects must be explained. Alistair has to show everyone how to work the printer - twice. They muddle through by the saving grace that Masen, even if he is not the heir to the Cullen businesses, has picked up how to run complex businesses simply by exposure. By the time lunch comes around, their small fifteen man company is ready for a break, which is why they beeline to the nearest place for lunch.

Their office building is part of a cluster of other small businesses, right near a local park and a small shopping center where food trucks like to congregate. Today there is only one, NOMAD, which has placed several folding tables and chairs in a loose arrangement around the truck. The food truck has a rotating menu of different cuisines on different days - today seems to have a Latin American theme. They order their food, collect it, and then break out into small groups at the various tables.

Whether by nature or design, Masen ends up sitting with the other founding members of the company. He tucks into his food neatly, or as neat as anyone can eat stuffed arepas. He keeps his eye on his phone, which sits beside his paper plate, mindful of the time and the virtual meeting with investors he has right after lunch.

"Man, this restaurant is great, isn't it?" Peter asks, fingers already dripping with salsa, fried dough, and cheese. "The food is fucking _fantastic_."

"It's pretty good," Emmett agrees.

Alistair, who has never developed a taste for anything remotely spicy, picks at a plain cheese and chicken quesadilla. He doesn't comment on the food, likely still reflecting on the perturbed expression of one of the food truck workers when he requested his food be made with absolutely nothing resembling a jalapeño.

_"Pretty good_?" Peter echoes incredulously. "Only _pretty good_? Are we even eating the same thing? This is _amazing_."

Alistair very much does not look like he agrees. He probably should have gotten a sandwich from the deli in the supermarket.

Emmett rolls his eyes. "Okay, fine. It's amazing," he agrees. "Why're you being so weird about it?"

"I'm not being weird," Peter retorts even though, even by Peter standards, he _is_ being a little hyperintense about the food. "You're the weird one."

Masen side-eyes Peter thoughtfully.

"Am not," Emmett shoots back.

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too you giant assh-"

"You're both dreadfully annoying," Alistair declares with a long-suffering sigh. He appears to have given up on his lunch.

"Mm," Masen hums in agreement. He thinks Peter and Emmett should at least pretend to be mature businessmen on their first official day, if only for the sake of their employees, but he's learned not to expect miracles.

Peter scoffs, reaches for more of his food. "Whatever. He started it."

Emmett scowls. "For fuck's sake…"

One of the food truck employees, tall and lean with generous scruff and a surly expression, passes by the table. He stops when Peter flags him down, casually gripping his elbow.

"Oh! Hey! Can we get more of this?" Peter asks, grinning brightly.

The guy stares down at where Peter is still grasping him, and blinks when Peter hastily releases him. "Sure," he says drawls.

Peter, completely guileless, simple creature that he is, beams happily. "It's really great," he gushes. "You know, I took a bite of these empanadas and almost came, it's that good."

The guy coughs, eyes widening as he takes a step back, looking away awkwardly. He might be blushing, but it's hard to tell.

"Christ, Pete, reign it in," Emmett chortles.

Alistair looks on, exchanging a sly glance with Masen, who is also watching the scene unfold with some hidden amusement.

"Why should I have to when the food is this good?" Peter defends himself. He looks up at the guy, who is now pointedly looking in the other direction and almost certainly blushing. "You understand, right?"

"…I'll get your food out right away."

Peter is still smiling even as the guy flees with haste. Masen thinks his obliviousness is truly impressive.

"Good job," Emmett says to Peter. "You scared the waiter."

"Your face scared him," Peter returns childishly.

"You-"

Masen cuts in before they can devolve into another spout of bickering. "Are we ready to be fully operational tomorrow?"

Emmett and Peter stare at him.

"We just moved in," Emmett says.

"Mm."

"The employees are still settling in," Peter says. "They're still in, like, orientation."

"Mm."

"We don't even have a coffee pot, yet," Emmett says plaintively. "It was backordered. Its being delivered next week."

Masen stares at him flatly. Emmett breaks eye-contact first.

"Alright, I'm out," Emmett declares. "Someone else try."

"Mase, can't we take a break?" Peter tries.

Masen thinks about it, for maybe a second, and dismisses the idea immediately. They are a new company, just starting out, and he has coordinated a path forward that will cultivate great success if everything remains precisely on schedule. Humans, he knows, are incredible adapters. The employees of Midnight Sun will learn to keep up or they will fail. And Masen is reasonably confident that his hand-picked talents will be up for the challenge, even the lazy ones like Emmett and Peter.

So, with the smallest of smirks, Masen gives his answer. "No."

"Well, I tried," Peter sighs. He takes a bite out of his food, sulking. "Your turn, Al."

Alistair stifles a yawn. "Why me? I agree with him," he says. "The sooner we get back to work, the better."

"Suddenly I understand why you two are friends," Emmett grouses, eyeing Alistair and Masen with mild distaste. "Workaholics, both of you."

Neither Masen nor Alistair disagree. In fact, Alistair even smiles unrepentantly and says, "Thanks."

Masen, for his part, says nothing in response, but he isn't displeased by the accusation. He doesn't even find anything wrong with being a workaholic. He considers it an asset, if anything.

After all, ambition is never a bad thing.

* * *

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete****  
**Best food tuck in the world right here **ʘNOMAD  
**_(Picture Attachment:_  
_Peter standing in front of a black food truck plastered with maps_  
_of different countries, overlaid on each other, with the word NOMAD  
in stylized spray paint over the side. Peter is giving the camera a peace sign.)_  
#nomnomnom #nomad #foodtruck #sogood

_(__**ʘ**__**NOMAD**_ _liked this post)_

Em for MC **ʘ****mathmagician****  
**This is **ʘ****peteypete** right now  
_(Gif Attachment:_  
_Fat Bastard from Austin Powers saying "get in my belly".)_

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete****  
**I can't even be offended because it's true

_(__**ʘ**__**onlyknockout **__liked this post)_

* * *

Sometime between all the hectic activity of the week, Masen makes time to film segments of script for the video contest. His being busy is no excuse to not follow through on a promise he makes to Swansong - to Bella Swan. Especially because he knows this video is a defense against the petty retaliation other players, including her previous partner, have taken against her.

Masen hadn't fully understood how vicious girls could be until he saw the video posted by Queen V. He knew, intellectually, that girls fought with words more than fists. But to see it in the cybersphere, to see an online bullying campaign happen to someone he cares about - that's different. He understands the cruelty, and beyond that he understands the importance of reputation, especially for players like Swansong.

It is partially his fault that she is dealing with this fallout, he knows. But he cannot change what happened with Hive and Cherry Lane, and even if he could change the past, he doesn't think he would. Messages like those are important to send. And Masen learned a lot about Swansong that day.

He's pleased, even a little proud, that she has found a way to craft retribution for herself that stays in line with her own moral code. It's just another thing he finds attractive about her. If given the choice, Masen isn't sure he would take the high road. He doesn't think many people would. Actually, his first instinct when he saw the video was to hack into all the accounts associated with the video and wreck havoc. Bella Swan's way is, admittedly, a better option.

Peter was right that the script Swansong sent was good. The first draft tells sweeping epic tale of a one-sided love, a sort of genderbent take on the Beauty and the Beast - except in this story, the Beauty is a hostage prince masquerading as a wealthy merchant, and the Beast is the female bandit who abducts him as ransom, falls in love, and ultimately sets him free. The twist itself is tragic. Knowing his duty to his people and encouraged by advisors to eliminate the bandit clan growing too powerful in the countryside, the Beauty returns to the Beast to marry - and at their wedding banquet, the Beauty's soldiers raid the gathering and kill all the bandits. The prince delivers the killing blow to the Beast and the original script ends there.

It would be a fantastic video by itself and would easily net a win. Even so, Masen ropes Peter into filming a final segment, wherein the Beauty mourns over the Beast for the rest of his life. His advisor, baffled, says that the Beauty could have spared the Beast and made her into his true wife, but the Beauty disagrees. _She would never have forgiven the betrayal_, he says. Instead, the Beauty learns necromancy to summon an echo of his beloved Beast, and the toll of the necromancy eventually drives him insane. This segment of the video ends with the Beauty falling off a cliff in chase of the ghostly Beast.

Peter, upon reading this addition, had simply declared it _twice as tragic as before_, and Masen had been pleased. He sends the additional segment to Swansong via the game's messaging system later in the week and waits for her reaction with barely bated breath.

》**Swansong**: this is great!

》**Swansong**: I'm totally adding it

》**Swansong**: but can I ask why you filmed it in the first place?

Masen considers the question, then considers how he wants to answer it. His original motivation had been somewhat nuanced, of course - filming this addition is of course an opportunity to show Bella Swan that he has a firm grasp on loyalty, no matter how subliminal the message is. He is playing Beauty and Beauty is so faithful to Beast that he winds up dying for it. He hopes Bella Swan will subconsciously associate this with Master Culler, as well. And beyond that, he wants to do his part to make sure they win this contest, wants to contribute to her retribution however he can.

He can say neither of these things without tipping his hand too soon.

《 **Master Culler**: extra 3 minutes qualifies us for the grand prize

》**Swansong**: you created this extra dose of tragedy to stretch the video time?

》**Swansong**: amazing

《 **Master Culler**: we might as well go for the biggest prize

She agrees, naturally. She tells him that she will have her sister edit this portion into the video and then upload it in the morning. Masen, seeing an open opportunity to learn more about Bella Swan, to show her that he has an interest in her life, seizes the moment.

He asks about her sister, and it opens the door to new conversation. Swansong is honest, albeit reluctant to part with many specifics. She has two siblings, one younger, one older; he has an older brother. She goes to college; he just graduated. She majors in comp sci; he did as well. Her plans over the summer include tutoring high schoolers; his include running his company. At her surprise that he has a company so soon after graduation, he downplays its initial success - no need to brag when he already seems to have captured her attention. He isn't crass, after all.

For Masen, it seems this first conversation about things _not_ associated with the game is something that sets a new tone in their continued interactions. The next time they talk, she reveals that her brother's new dog follows her around loyally because she slipped it bacon one time; Masen says he deals with the same issue, except not with a dog but with one of his roommates. She wonders if she really laughs, or if her returning _lol_ is just one of internal amusement.

He wants to hear her laugh.

For now, Masen will have to settle for chatting with her in the game. They are several hundred miles apart right now, and he has yet to devise a plan to reveal himself to her. He will have to continue to be patient.

It isn't as though he doesn't have plenty of resources to get to know her. His friends have made a habit out of tagging him or sending him links to any of her online appearances - Emmett tags him in Instagram posts, Alistair has made sure to send him Twitch streaming links, and Peter's new favorite past time is trolling Leah Clearwater's YouTube videos to send the funniest ones to Masen. He subsists on these tokens of Bella Swan, trying to reconcile all the different facets of her personality. And so his nights are spent catching up on links that are sent to him. Tired from the long hours required to get Midnight Sun going, Masen allows himself to bask in the pieces of Bella Swan that he cannot get during the day. She is, for him, a special treat that his friends shamelessly exploit. He can't even be mad at them, because each link it's a chance to learn more about this girl who has so thoroughly snagged his attention.

And he does learn a lot. She's a terrible cook. She has no rhythm. She's tone deaf. She is grumpy in the morning. She whines. She can be childish. She can be too kind. She can be remarkably stubborn. She has a dry sense of humor. She has an appetite that rivals a teenage boy's. She likes spicy, sour, salty food; she has a deep love for dark chocolate. She is handy, a do-it-yourself fixer. She doesn't like to admit when she's wrong.

She is complicated. Bella Swan is a novelty and Masen is charmed. Masen is utterly and profoundly weak for her.

* * *

**A/N: Don't mind me, just setting things up for future chapters and stoking that slow-burn. This chapter answers the question of if Masen is doing the same slightly creepy deep-dive that Jasper did. Masen isn't; instead, his friends are doing the work for him and he is putting up very little resistance. Is one better than the other? Who knows! **

**Also, wow, isn't Grandfather Cullen the literal worst? I love that he has zero possibility of redemption. Feel free to hate on him! He deserves it!**

**Kudos to anyone who sees the secondary plot laid down in this chapter!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Be safe, wash your hands, be smart and don't trust lifted restrictions blindly!**

**~Rae**


	22. swan says making s'mores is hard

**[YouTube Video]**

Swan Says Making S'mores Is Hard  
**ClarityIsClear  
**10k Views / Posted 2 hours ago

(The first motion captured by the camera is the wild splash of a body hitting water, a spray that foams white, the choppy surface of the water roiling as a body thrashes beneath the water - and then, a dark head pops out. It's a young man, a water-soaked but recognizable Seth Clearwater, who bobs on the surface of a dark blue-grey ocean for a moment, only to let out a _whoop_ that echoes loudly.

The camera zooms out, eventually revealing that the camera has a birds-eye view of the waters below. When the camera aligns itself with the view from the top, it is to settle on a group of bare-chested, russet-skinned boys with shining white teeth and dark eyes, each of them also wet, evidently from the ocean water below.

"This is cliff diving," Leah Clearwater's voice comes from behind the camera. "See, what happens is these fools fling themselves off this cliff - it's about, oh, 100 feet or so I think - and then dive into the ocean. It's a blast, really. Better than any rollercoaster."

"It's dangerous," comes a quiet voice from the side. The camera turns, following the voice, settling on Bella Swan, who is gnawing on her lip and watching the boy in the ocean swim back to shore.

"It's not that dangerous," Leah counters. "Everyone does it."

Bella wrinkles her nose. "Not the best argument, sis," she says, then raises her voice to parrot a tone used by mothers worldwide. "_If everyone jumped off a cliff, would you?_"

Leah laughs so hard the camera shakes in her hand, briefly pointing at the ground and the bare feet of the girls who stand at a safe distance from the cliff. The camera rights itself and Leah says, "Yeah, okay, but this really is a lot safer than it looks."

"You would say that," Bella snipes. "You have no sense of self-preservation, either!"

Leah sighs. "Seth is fine. Look at his dumb, happy face!"

Seth, who has come back to shore and hiked back to the top of the cliff, flashes a thumbs-up sign as he jogs by. He is smiling, wide and goofy, but it doesn't seem to calm Bella at all.

"I can worry," she mutters. "Sisters are supposed to worry."

Leah reaches out, pokes Bella in the cheek, and has her hand slapped away. Bella, olive eyes riveted on the boys rough-housing at the cliff, huffs and stares at the camera with silent challenge.

Behind the camera, Leah's sigh is audible. "Okay, yeah, it _can_ be dangerous and you can definitely worry. But it's really not that bad. See, look!"

The camera turns back to the boys. They seem to be deciding who is going to do next. Jacob Black, wearing the tightest swim trunks known to man, much to the apparent delight of one of the taller, broader guys, seems to be elected to go next.

He struts up to the cliff, chest puffed out. "Watch how it's done, boys," he says, stepping back as if to prepare for a running leap.

Before he can jet off, though, Seth shouts, "Have some style! Do a flip!"

Jake turns and gives the younger boy a stink eye. "Oh, I'm _sorry_, I'm not fancy enough for you?" Jake sneers. "I guess I should just die then."

The tallest guy, notably a little older looking than the other boys, crosses his arms over his chest and snorts. "Go ahead," he jeers. "The cliff is right there."

"Paul! Keep it up and see how nice I'll be later," Jake threatens, face puckering in annoyance.

Paul's eyebrows lift. "I can take whatever you can dish out, babe. You don't scare me."

"You-!"

"Ew! Gross!" Seth cuts in, hands raised as if pleading. Behind him, two other boys exchange mild expressions. "We _don't_ need to hear you flirting. Just…just do your jump and let us take our turns."

"Oh, I don't have to do a flip?" Jake asks sardonically. Nonetheless, he does take a running leap, throwing himself in a graceful arc off the side of the cliff - and he does wind up doing a single flip before he touches water.

Paul wolf-whistles.

"You're both so gross," Seth whines.

Paul smiles sharply. "Sure we are, virgin."

Seth flushes, shoves at Paul, and before Paul has a chance to retaliate, dashes off to take his own dive. Just like the first time, he rises from the water with a gleeful sound, swimming over to dunk Jake in the water right before he reaches the shore.

"See," Leah says behind the camera. "Totally safe."

"Unless Seth annoys them to the point of homicide," Bella says flatly.

"A risk he takes everyday anyway," Leah says sagely.

Bella makes an aborted sound of exasperation. "Can you even record any of this? Is it allowed? We're on tribal lands…"

"Indian Country Etiquette only applies to visitors," Leah answers smartly. "I'm fully blooded, sis, so I do what I want. But," Leah adds after a pause, now notably addressing the viewers. "If you ever do happen to find yourself on a reservation, don't be a dick, okay? Ask permission before you take pictures or touch anything or go anywhere. Got it?"

They fall silent, the camera continuing to show the boys taking turns cliff diving. At some point, it becomes obvious that the footage is speeding along, faster and faster, until the sun is setting and the boys are no longer diving off the cliff. Leah must set the camera down somewhere, still pointed at the water and the sky - in fact, the camera seems partially submerged in water, because the high tide covers the bottom half of the screen and allows glimpses of the deep-dark of the rising waters. The camera captures the way colors watercolor over clouds, the transition as stars and the moon emerge in a mostly clear blue-black sky.

When the camera angle shifts again, it is already late, dark enough that the video quality suffers a bit, bolstered only by the presence of a crackling fire. A dozen people, most with familiar faces, are gathered around the fire, but the camera zeroes in on Bella Swan again. She's donned a denim jacket over her plain shirt at some point, her hair pulled away from her face in a messy bun. She sits on a log, knees pulled up to her chest as she fiddles with a long, thin metal skewer.

"Here it is, the content you've been waiting for," Leah says as she moves closer to the fire. "Wait! Let me do my best David Attenborough." Leah stops, clears her throats, and zooms the camera in on Bella. In a dry, poorly-done British accent she says, "Here we have the illustrious anthropomorphized Swan, a majestic creature that eats and eats, but cannot feed herself unless the food is prepared in a microwave."

Bella cuts an unimpressed glance at the camera. "I can hear you, you know."

Leah's imitation continues. "Unique to this Swan is the delusion that it is capable of discerning human speech."

"Unbelievable," Bella says, rolling her eyes and seemingly deciding to outright ignore Leah as someone passes her a bag of marshmallows, which she wastes no time skewering and holding over the fire.

Leah narrates the entire thing, as if this is a nature documentary. "Ah, watch as the Swan tries her hand at roasting a delicacy to her kind, a giant marshmallow. The Swan pits the marshmallow, copying her peers as she rotates the - and it's on fire," Leah says abruptly, capturing the exact moment when the marshmallow, held too close to the fire, blackens and catches flame. "It's on fire _already_? This is a record."

"Crap!" Bella yelps, quickly standing as she pulls the skewer out of the fire. She blows frantically on the marshmallow.

"Put it out!" Leah says loudly.

"I'm trying!" Bella shouts. She gives up on trying to blow the fire out and unceremoniously drops the whole skewer into the sand, which douses the flaming marshmallow immediately. She sighs explosively, hands on her hips as she stares down at her failure.

"You were doing so well," a low female voice says warmly. The voice is sitting on the other side of the fire and cannot be seen.

"No, she wasn't," Leah counters bluntly.

"Leah!"

"What?" Leah fires back. "She wasn't! She set it on fire! I'm just being honest."

Bella pouts, plopping back down on the log.

Seth, sitting beside her, finishes pressing graham crackers and chocolate around a perfectly roasted marshmallow. "Here, have this one," he says.

Bella smiles shyly. "Thank you, little brother."

Seth waves her away. "Yeah, yeah….It's safer than letting you do it, anyway," he adds.

"Making s'mores is hard!" Bella says defensively.

Leah snorts. The people around the fire snicker, some outright laughing. Bella, if possible, eats the s'more sullenly.

The video cuts out after another view of the moon rising over the ocean, followed by a link to the Quileute Nation website.)

**Comments**

ZomZomZombies  
Okay but Bella's face at 13:44 is priceless lol she's like, oh f***!

HeartsAPlenty  
I too think making s'mores is hard!

Yaheard  
Okay but who wants to go clif diving? It looks so cool?

Twiiilit  
My boi JB tho XD those SHORTS

PeterPanda  
Haha I have a friend who would love to make s'mores with Bella

* * *

**A/N: More on Quileute Nation next chapter! To a certain reader, I heard your observation on Native American erasure, so I hope that the next two chapters hit the right notes - this is how I would like to see this issue represented, anyway. **

**Next update tomorrow!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay at HOME , and wash your hands.**

**~Rae**


	23. chapter 12

**[chapter_12]**

The start of the 2020 Inter-Server Championship is, in hindsight, rather anticlimactic - and it's such a shame because of all the time spent preparing for it. Or, really, the time spent preparing was nice, because Bella can say with complete confidence that Master Culler is a _friend_ now, so she can't regret spending all that virtual time with him - but it _is_ a shame that the tournament doesn't begin with all the excitement she anticipated.

The tournament on the NorCal server takes place, naturally, in Pacific Standard Time, so that means by the time Bella sequesters herself in her room with her laptop and headset, night is already falling. Leah and Seth are, last she heard, taking advantage of the parents working nightshifts and have settled down to stream horror flicks on Netflix, leaving Bella with a swath of uncheck time. They know not to bother her unless the house is burning down.

Fifteen minutes to eight, Bella logs on and Swansong emerges at the Arena, a space dead-center in the game map that is dedicated to dueling sprees and tournaments like this one. Special codes are given to registered participants or onlookers who bought tickets; Bella taps in her code to gain entrance, then strolls around the packed interior of the Arena, searching for a familiar avatar.

She finds Master Culler exactly where he said he would be, standing just to the side of the dueling circle. He is decked in his usual armor, except for a new chestplate and a clip in his hair, both of which she suspects are for added protection. Like Master Culler, she has similarly prepared herself - she keeps the full equipment he gifted her at Concordant Rock, but has reorganized her quick-skills with the goal of elevating her actions-per-minute.

They had agreed last night that during their tournament duels there would be no chatting - all attention focused on winning, of course - but that pact does not apply to the time before the tournament. She reaches out first, fingers tingling.

》**Swansong**: are you excited?

《 **Master Culler**: it's just another duel

_Well, of course he would say that_, Bella muses. After all, Master Culler is the type of person who can fabricate emotionally-wrenching sentiment to simply stretch out the timing of a video. Bella very much doubts he ever feels much in the way of nerves. He's peerless that way, a master of himself and those around him. A deft, adroit mind like that is terribly admirable.

》**Swansong**: well, I'm excited

》**Swansong**: I've been looking forward to this

《 **Master Culler**: these are only qualifying rounds

》**Swansong**: still!

《 **Master Culler**: fair enough

Master Culler is right, of course - these _are_ only the qualifying rounds. Tonight will establish which pairs are even qualified to participate in the tournament, with each pair needing five wins at the end of the night to make it into the first official round. After that, each round will narrow down the pairs until the best pair on the server is decided - and then that pair will go against the other top contenders from other servers to determine who the best players are across all the hundred or so servers dedicated to Dawn of Warcraft.

Bella hasn't ever participated in something so large. This is essentially the equivalent to the Olympics for Dawn of Warcraft. She's seen some buzz online that winners of this tournament might even be scouted by E-Sports representatives for the national team - which is, of course, all conjecture and rumor. But even if it's not true, it's still an exciting prospect.

She hopes she performs well, and not only just so she doesn't disappoint her partner.

The clock ticks over to the top of the hour and the first qualifying rounds are announced. Cross-legged on her bed, Bella eagerly soaks up the first two rounds, noting how driven each of the players are. Both rounds are close calls with pairs that make up some of the names on the Top 10 and Top 20 dueling rankings, and Bella silently applauds her fellow players for such entertaining duels, even if the last one wasn't close at all.

Swansong and Master Culler are part of the third duel. They step onto the dueling circle, side-by-side, crisp white and vibrant jewel, and wait for the system to announce their opponents.

**Master Culler and Swansong VS Relentless and Queen V**

Bella's brows shoot up as she does a double-take. Relentless and Queen V are participating? Well, of course Relentless is - that's hardly surprising, and neither is Queen V tagging along since they're in-game partners. It's just surprising to see their names so soon after that awful video was posted. Bella pushes away the thread of _dislike_ trying to slip through her mind.

They're just players selected randomly by computerized programming. Dueling them is inevitable.

Bella watches and waits, eyes locked on to the dueling circle, waiting for the other two players to arrive. One minute, then two passes. Each qualifying round lasts three minutes, which means Relentless and Queen V only have another sixty seconds to show up. And yet the dueling circle remains empty aside from herself and Master Culler.

**Relentless and Queen V Forfeit **comes the system-wide announcement, quickly followed by **Relentless and Queen V Withdraw From the Inter-Server Championship.**

Bella sits back, completely baffled by this turn of events. Relentless and Queen V _dropped out_ during the qualifying rounds? _Why_? She can't fathom it, especially knowing what Relentless is like.

》**Swansong**: I can't believe they dropped out

《 **Master Culler**: don't think about it too much

《 **Master Culler**: focus on the next duel

Bella takes Master Culler's advice, because what else is she supposed to do? It's good advice anyway. No use dwelling on mysteries she'll never unravel - and it's not like she wants to waste a lot of time wondering about Relentless or Queen V anyway. If she might be a little disappointed by the lost opportunity to get some pent-up frustration related to those two players out - well, she is only human, isn't she? Even Bella, for as much as she tries to stay zen, can be angry and hold a grudge, especially for people who _truly_ deserve it.

That video is light-years of difference between Leah being callous or Alice being absent-minded. And Bella is still a little hurt, her pride a bit wounded, by the way Relentless - her friend - cast her off because of some insipid rumors.

Swansong and Master Culler gain one qualification point because of the forfeit, but their next qualification point is one that they have to earn. Their opponents are two male players at the top of the duel ranking, Valkner and Nash, who have paired together for the sole purpose of participating in the tournament. Swansong has had the unique pleasure of battling both of these players, who regularly switch placements on the leader board, and has only ever come to a true draw with Valkner, who has a playing style remarkably similar to her own.

Bella releases a slow breath, eyes riveted forward. Weeks of training have allowed Swansong and Master Culler to have a standard default for how they duel as a pair, something which has been established with effusive help from one of Master Culler's friends, Pestulent.

Obviously, Master Culler outclasses all opponents, not just in terms of power and equipment, but also in his wider range of game awareness; Master Culler has the enviable ability to be aware of all aspects of the game, from the surrounding terrain to the skills of the other players, in real time, which is something Swansong can only do with preparation. As it is, this means that Master Culler's skill are best implemented if he can take a step back to observe and play more defensively. This works well because Master Culler, as a Night Elf Mage, has more support-related spells like arcane and teleportation that he can use to bolster both offense and defense. On the other hand, this means that Swansong has to be a more offensive player, which is fine for her because she likes to play forward in the first place. While a Night Elf Druid like Swansong might not be traditionally used as an aggressive character, her personal playing style and the skills she has spent so much time cultivating means she has a certain level of flexibility between her astral and shapeshifting skills. Together, Master Culler and Swansong make something of an odd team-up - although both are technically spell-casters, a Druid like Swansong would traditionally be used as a healer who can deal damage while a Mage like Master Culler would take the forefront. However, Master Culler and Swansong have found that works for them is a reversal of these roles - while Master Culler works long-distance to operate as offensive and defensive support, Swansong takes on a role of a streamlined decoy, even sometimes acting as a tank to give Master Culler an advantage.

They use this strategy against Valkner and Nash, two _total_ tanks, to great success. Something about their arrangement must be surprising, but Bella isn't naïve enough to think that novelty will last long enough to be a true advantage. Other players are watching. Other players are taking notes. The element of surprise is one that can only be used precious few times. But this time, for this qualifying round and the ones that follow, the way Swansong and Master Culler weave their spells around each other, the way Swansong darts forward to attack while Master Culler teleports around for some truly nasty surprise drops, is something that works _beautifully_.

By the time ten o'clock rolls around, Swansong and Master Culler have wracked up the required amount of qualifying points to be included in the actual tournament, which will start in the next week. Bella is satisfied, her heart rate slowing as the adrenalin in her blood begins to cool.

《 **Master Culler**: you did well

》**Swansong**: thanks!

》**Swansong**: your strategy worked like a charm!

《 **Master Culler**: naturally

》**Swansong**: you're so modest

《 **Master Culler**: of course

《 **Master Culler**: I have a talented partner - success was inevitable

Bella smiles, her cheeks heating up at the compliment. It's a very Master Culler type of compliment to give, too.

《 **Master Culler**: are you logging off for the night, or do you have quests?

》**Swansong**: I thought I would join my siblings movie marathon

》**Swansong**: what about you?

《 **Master Culler**: I can hear my roommates arguing downstairs

《 **Master Culler**: I should probably break it up, or they might never be quiet

》**Swansong**: my plans sound more fun lol

《 **Master Culler**: you're not wrong

》**Swansong**: meet up tomorrow for training?

《 **Master Culler**: of course. see you then. goodnight

》**Swansong**: goodnight

Bella bites her lip as she logs off, slowly laying back on her bed, arms stretched out at her sides while her laptop balances precariously on the tray on her bed. Her back pops with the stretch, a delicious unwinding of tension she didn't know she was carrying.

It had been a good night. She's wholly contented to know that she and Master Culler are officially qualified for the tournament, but there is something niggling in the back of her mind, something that she can't quite place, something that isn't allowing her to fully relish the streak of recent wins.

Ah. Right - Relentless and Queen V forfeiting the entire tournament. It's one thing to forfeit a single round, and entirely another thing to literally run away from a great opportunity. It's perplexing. She hasn't ever known Relentless to be afraid of confrontation, and yet…

She doesn't understand it. In fact, she understands this less than that awful video, because _that_ at least made some kind of mean-spirited sense. Dropping out of a competition, though? The Relentless she knew would never.

Bella sighs. How much did she even know Relentless, anyway? Apparently not well enough for him to have any sort of faith in her. He's a former friend. It should be easier to brush him off, to stop wondering about his motives, but Bella has always been a bit too soft-hearted. Even Mike Newton, for all his annoyances, hadn't earned true scorn from her - instead, she simply went out of her way to avoid him. Like Leah sometimes teases, Bella wasn't born with a single bad bone in her body. She can't even stop caring about people who don't deserve it.

Hearing the television blasting with screams downstairs, followed by Pistachio's confused barking, Bella summons the energy to carefully pack away her laptop and gaming equipment. She goes downstairs, lingering in the doorway of the living room, squinting at the television screen to assess if the horror flick is too scary for her. Deeming it to be one of the ridiculous parody screamers Leah loves so much, she ventures further into the living room, picking her away around the sprawl of Seth's overgrown limbs on the floor, and seating herself beside her sister.

Leah looks at her, glancing away from the movie just long enough that her eyebrow lifts at whatever it is she detects on Bella's face. Her words, although whispered, are weighted. "So, how was your game thing?"

Still bemused by the entire ordeal, Bella shakes her head and shifts, stretching across Leah's lap and turning her head just enough to see the television. "It was _weird_," Bella laments, cheek pillowed on Leah's knee, because _weird_ is the only word that captures the odd swirl of happiness-confusion-satisfaction swimming through her head.

"Poor baby," Leah says mockingly. But her actions bely her words as she runs her fingers through Bella's hair.

On the TV, one of the Final Girls, the chicks who make it to the end of the horror movie, wails about how unfair everything is, while another mostly screams in confused horror at the killer hacking them to pieces one-by-one. Bella can relate. Life can be like that sometimes.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Short Cake  
Granny says hi!

_(Picture Attachment:  
__Alice in a flowered linen hat, wearing a floral  
__frock in soft blues with lace gloves, smiling at  
__the camera sitting beside an elderly woman with  
__the same round eyes and silver, short-cropped hair,  
__also wearing a floral dress and lace gloves; there is  
__a fine China tea set and finger sandwiches on the  
__table behind them.)_

Sleep Talker  
Hi Granny!  
How are her roses?

Short Cake  
She won the county blue ribbon!  
:D Granny has the best rose garden in Jackson

Sleep Talker  
That's great! :)

Thorny  
What did I miss?  
Oh  
That's a lot of floral  
Hi Granny, too

Paparazzi  
Holy shit lol  
Why do you look like an extra in The Help?

Short Cake  
It's fashion!  
This is how you dress for Society

Thorny  
Are you wearing matching earrings?

Sleep Talker  
I think it's sweet  
None of us have living grandparents

Thorny  
I didn't say it wasn't sweet!

Short Cake  
Thank you!

Paparazzi  
You is smart  
You is kind  
You is important

Thorny  
You is an asshole

Paparazzi  
Ikr lol

Short Cake  
Guess I'm not sending YOU any blueberries  
Bella can have them all

Paparazzi  
Wait I take it back  
It's all very cute  
Please share the blueberries

Thorny  
Oh how the tables have turned

Sleep Talker  
You guys don't even know  
She's trying to bargain me into sharing

Paparazzi  
You're a goddamn traitor of a sister  
I want a refund

Sleep Talker  
Sorry not sorry  
:)

Short Cake  
Granny says The Help is a good movie  
She wasn't even mad  
So I guess you can have some blueberries

Paparazzi  
Granny is the literal best

Short Cake  
I know! :D

* * *

The rugged beauty of Quileute Nation will always be a breathtaking wonder - the entire reservation is unlike any place Bella has ever seen, and she always feels the honor of being allowed to stand on this scarce sacred land. In all her life, she has only been invited into the inner sanctum a handful of times, and she is fine with this, because the areas that the tribe open to the public are endlessly amazing. By the virtue of growing up with Leah, by being tied to the tribe through Sue's marriage to Charlie, by being charged to babysit Seth as he toddled recklessly around, Bella has perhaps spent more time on the reservation growing up than she ever had in Forks. She doesn't think it's a bad thing. She cherishes every memory she has of this place.

La Push is, and probably always will be, a home of her heart. Even though she is an outsider, the generous and harmonious Quileute people have never made her - or any other visitor, for that matter - feel like they do not belong on the land. Bella respects that hospitality by religiously observing the etiquette asked of all visitors, which is why she keeps her phone on silent and tucked away. Bella has no intention of disturbing the peace. Not now, not ever.

This is a place of escape, a place where the spirit can rest. She has no need to stay plugged in when her senses are filled with the tang of salty ocean air, the sound of waves crashing against the craggy cliffs, the sharp breeze whipping through warm, muggy air.

La Push itself is a village that has been shrunk to only one square mile, although many members of the tribe have built homes just outside the reservation proper. Quileute Nation has taken great pains to keep the glory of their culture alive by creating a tourist industry, one that showcases the wonder of the natural world without undermining the glory of the land and the people living there. First Beach is, perhaps, the most trafficked area of the reservation during the day, and host to precious few tribal celebrations in the evening.

Today is Wednesday, which means the Healing Circle drums will begin promptly at six, just as they do every week. She looks forward to standing on the fringes later, on the beach just close enough to hear the drums but not close enough to encroach. Leah so rarely gets to indulge in her culture these days. Bella is here to support that, in any way she can. Today, that means hanging out on the pebbly beach until the moon is high in the sky and driftwood fires are burning. She commits to enjoying every moment she can. She always forgets just how keenly she misses the simple _peace_ she feels here.

Or how she _could_ feel peaceful, if not for the teenage boys running amok. Bella closes her eyes, curling her bare feet deeper into the roughhewn sand, standing still as cold water laps over her ankles, splashes at her knees and thighs.

"Bella!"

She turns at the sound of her name, eyeing her soaked-to-the-bone baby brother with some concern. Seth looks younger, a perpetual baby face with a beaming smile, water-logged clothes hanging off his lean frame.

"You're supposed to swim in the ocean," Seth says, slogging forward in the water, lifting his knees high to move faster. He looks ridiculous. "Just standing there isn't any fun."

She makes a face when he inadvertently splashes water up near her hips. She's been trying very hard to enjoy the water without getting wet, but she should have known better. "I'm not good at swimming," she reminds him.

"Yeah, I guess it would be bad if you died."

"I think so, too," she agrees dryly.

Seth grins, unrepentant, then hooks his thumb over his shoulder to where Jake and the other boys are in a cluster, shoving each other around as they stand knee-deep in the water. "They think it's about time to go cliff diving."

"Seth…"

"Oh, come on, Bella!" Seth pleads, latching onto her arm and swinging it around. "It's totally safe."

It isn't, Bella knows. She remembers when Jake got too cocky one summer and scared the hell out of his sisters when he came sputtering out of the water, blood dripping down his face. He still has the scar, only barely hidden by his hairline. Like Rachel and Rebecca, she isn't eager to see her own little brother make the same mistake, or worse.

But at the same time, it's a teenage right of passage. Even Leah cliff dives when the mood strikes her. Until now, Seth has only half-heartedly expressed an interest in it - but he must be old enough, or maybe more aware that he's missing out on something.

"Just…" Bella sighs, tugging Seth into a brief hug. "Be careful, okay? Don't do anything Jake would do."

"I can _hear you_!" Jake shouts in mild outrage, not ten feet away.

Bella releases Seth, sloshing her way to shore. "Good!" she yells back, equal parts worried and amused. "Because if something happens to Seth on those cliffs, you know exactly what's coming for you!"

"I'm not afraid of you!" Jake returns.

"Not me!" Bella calls back.

"I'm not afraid of Leah, either!"

"Not Leah!"

"Then who el-" Jake cuts himself off, suddenly looking a little wan. "Sue wouldn't hurt me."

Bella, now standing at the shoreline, props her hands on her hips. She doesn't say anything, sure that her doubtful expression is saying enough as it is. Sue Clearwater is the epitome of a mother bear. If Seth gets hurt under Jake's supervision - well, Sue works in a hospital, doesn't she? She would know where to put the body.

Jake, surely distracted by the possibility of an untimely demise, is promptly dunked into the ocean by Quil and Embry, and Bella laughs despite herself.

She turns, feigning lightness as she reaches the triangle of driftwood logs serving as seating on the beach. She sits beside Leah, who is fiddling with her camera, which has been wrapped in plastic to protect it from the water. Across from them, Emily Uley is perched on a log, one hand resting on the slight swell of her abdomen. Bella's arrival has cut into some casual chatting between the cousins, although neither of them seem bothered by her interruption. Bella is just glad Leah and Emily are speaking civilly to each other - it's a vast improvement to the tension that sprung up four years ago, when a lopsided love triangle made for a lot of awkward silences and terse avoidance.

Emily smiles sympathetically at Bella. "He'll be okay. Seth is a strong swimmer," she says reassuringly, and it does work to settle Bella's nerves a bit. Emily has always been like that, sweet as spun sugar but with a quiet strength like steel wire.

"I know," Bella says. "Really, I do."

Leah purses her lips. "If you're really that worried, we'll go up there in a bit and supervise," she offers, and Bella deflates, sending her a grateful look. Leah, summoning tact some somewhere, doesn't make the obvious tease that Bella should give it a try so she won't be so worried.

Bella is many things, but brave enough to jump of a cliff into roiling waters she is not.

"Anyway," Leah continues blithely, looking right at her cousin with a vaguely mystified expression. "You're, you know, _super_ pregnant. Guess you guys didn't waste any time after the wedding, huh?"

"Oh, my _God_, Leah," Bella breathes, mortified on Emily's behalf. She presses her hand to her face, partially hiding even as Emily remains nonplussed.

In fact, Emily smiles, slow as syrup. "Before the wedding, actually."

Leah laughs, as if she has won a private victory. "I knew it! I knew my math was right!"

Bella supposes it is _very much_ a Leah Clearwater thing to do to calculate a date of conception, if only to use it as material to tease with at a later date. She can already picture Leah embarrassing her second-cousin-to-be with the fact that their parent had a shotgun wedding. Poor kid, honestly.

Emily shakes her head, still smiling peaceably. "It's not like we were trying to hide it. Although, there is some willful ignorance with my parents," she admits ruefully.

"Sounds like the Youngs," Leah agrees.

A belated realization washes over Bella. "Oh. Is this why Jake said you were looking for guinea pigs?"

"I can't exactly test the product right now," Emily confirms, patting her round stomach. "And neither can Sam, really. He's so busy trying to learn the ropes on the Tribal Council, even as a junior. He's been put in charge of coordinating the school, bringing everything up to date for the fall."

Leah snorts, lifting the strap of her camera around her neck and shaking her hair loose. "Yeah, I could see how being stoned out of his mind all the time would make his job a little hard."

"My thoughts exactly," Emily says. She sighs, a faint crinkle in her brow. "The dispensary is a godsend, really. We have plenty of funds to prepare for the baby and contribute to the tribe, but keeping up with the demand…"

"You don't have help?" Bella wonders.

"Oh, I do," Emily is quick to say. "Kim is still learning the recipes and Jared, bless him, shouldn't be anywhere near a kitchen. But neither of them are twenty-one yet, so I'm a little short on taste testers at the moment."

"Legal taste testers, you mean," Leah says.

"Being legal is the important part," Emily points out primly.

Bella knows Emily is right - aside from her own father being the Chief of Police, Bella has always known Emily to be responsible for what she grows and sells. After all, Emily's dispensary is the only legal source of recreational and legal marijuana in the area, with the next nearest dispensary being down in Port Angeles. The dispensary made itself into one of the most successful and reputable businesses in the Forks-La Push area, largely because Emily is so diligent - and that diligence means that anybody testing Emily's products is going to be at least the legal age, especially if they are taste-testing on purpose.

"I guess I'll be missing out this summer," Bella says. "I'm not 21 until September."

"Lucky me," Leah cackles. Her birthday is only a few days away, something she has been lording over Bella since they were little girls.

"And Paul," Bella adds, knowing his birthday was sometime in May.

Emily nods. "Two guinea pigs are better than none."

Leah's expression sours. "I better be getting first dibs, cousin," she says warningly. "I can't stand that asshole, always having to be first in everything."

The irony of that statement is not lost on Bella, but she doesn't comment. Instead, she looks around, realizing how suspiciously quiet the beach has gotten, and feels her heart drop when she spies a rowdy group trekking up to one of the higher cliffs hanging over the open ocean. She stands abruptly, tugs on Leah's elbow much to her displeasure, and says to Emily, "Talk to you later. We have a little brother to watch over."

Emily waves with a giggle, even as Bella carts Leah away, dragging both of them hastily to join the group of cliff-divers.

They make it too the top just in time to watch Paul, true to character, take the first dive. And although she remains anxious each time Seth flings himself off a cliff, she does find herself enjoying the familiar slightly-caustic banter of the La Push boys she'd grown up with. By the time they are done risking their lives for a thrill and the sun has set, she is basking in a sense of nostalgia.

The feeling persists even as the Quileutes peel off to join the tribe in the private area of the beach, leaving Bella to her own devices while the drum circle begins. The solitary experience is also one from her childhood, something she has come to cherish. Being alone and quiet is something she still craves, if only for the chance to recharge and gather her thoughts.

She spends the better first half of the drum circle gathering wood and kindling into one of the rocky firepits on the beach, lighting a modest fire that burns with flashes of blue from the scant pieces of driftwood that managed to sneak into the kindling. Bella wisely stands upwind of the fire until the blue burns itself out; it had always been a message of caution growing up that while the driftwood fire might be pretty, the smoke itself is harmful. When the fire settles into a dance of common reds, she drags the cooler of water, sausages, and s'mores fixings beside a log and settles down to wait for her friends to rejoin her.

The rhythmic thump of the drums lulls her into a space of heady serenity. Occasionally, she can hear words thread from down the beach, tales of _kwalla_, the mighty whale the first Quileute dared to challenge. Growing up, her favorite tales were about _bayak_, the old Raven who placed the sun in the sky and acted as a trickster spirit to teach the Quileute important lessons. Sue used to tell one about the Raven demonstrating to the Quileute that being true to the self was more important than imitating others - a lesson Bella has always carried and tried to emulate.

Bella leans back on the log, balancing her weight with her hands, and gazes up at the clear sky, letting the cool ocean breeze wash over her, battling the warmth from the fire. All the stars are out, constellations she half-recognizes matching the limpid beauty of the near-full moon. She is utterly at peace, languishing in the calm.

Dimly, she wonders what Master Culler is up to tonight. Is he busy running his fledgling company, or is he relaxing? Is Master Culler is looking at the moon, too?

It's a nice thought. She hopes it's true.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Paparazzi  
So okay I need to tell you guys a thing  
We need to be talking  
We need to be talking so much right now

Short Cake  
What is it?  
Is something wrong?

Paparazzi  
Wrong?  
No  
Everything is right  
Except for like one thing

Thorny  
Just spit it out

Paparazzi  
Do you guys ever wonder about your bellybutton  
How weird are they right  
And we have four  
Four bellybuttons in the dorm  
Isn't that too many  
We should have less  
Nobody needs that many

Thorny  
Ok  
What the fuck lol

Short Cake  
I don't get it  
How do we get fewer bellybuttons?

Paparazzi  
That's what I want to know!  
We have too many

Thorny  
Are you okay Leah?

Paparazzi  
Me?  
Im fine  
Im great  
I have only one bellybutton  
But it doesn't eat any more, because I grew a moth  
*moth  
*mouth

Thorny  
What kind of effed up biology lesson is this?

Paparazzi  
We have too much biology too  
All the genitals who needs them?  
Bellybuttons are just fine

Short Cake  
I'm a little worried

Thorny  
Yeah me too  
Entertained but worried lol

_Sleep Talker_

_Sleep Talker_

_Sleep Talker_

Paparazzi  
No! Bells can't come  
She'll bring her bellybutton

Short Cake

_Sleep Talker_

Sleep Talker  
Hi  
Busy  
Hold on let me catch up

.

OMG Leah

Paparazzi  
This is what I'm talking about  
See the bellybutton got to her

Thorny  
What the hell is wrong with her lol

Short Cake  
Is Leah okay?

Sleep Talker  
LOL  
She's fine  
She might be a little high  
She's over at our cousin's shop for taste testing

Thorny  
Oh so she's healthy

Sleep Talker  
Yeah

Thorny  
Then I can use this for blackmail  
Excellent  
Brb need to screenshot everything

Short Cake  
Isn't that a little mean?

Thorny  
Of course it is!  
That's why its fun

Sleep Talker  
Leah would do the same

Short Cake  
I guess that's true lol  
She's being real quiet now  
Where did she go?

Sleep Talker  
I texted Emily, told her to confiscate the phone  
She sent a picture  
For the sake of Leah's dignity I won't send it  
She's sleeping it off now, according to Emily

Thorny  
Was she looking at her bellybutton

Sleep Talker  
I can neither confirm nor deny

Thorny  
She totally was lol  
This is great  
Best day ever

Short Cake  
Lol

Sleep Talker  
Lol

* * *

Nurse Weber's son isn't _bad_ at math, which is something Bella realizes after their fourth tutoring session. His problem is something else, something that tutoring can't fix. Twice a week finds her at the Weber's modest home, siting at the kitchen table with a fifteen year old boy who, in a fit of frustration, says that he doesn't _need_ a tutor, he needs to stop _feeling like a freak_. It startles Bella, makes her put down her pencil and really _look_ at Joshua Weber.

He looks a lot like his older sister, Angela, who had been a classmate of hers in high school. Like Angela, Joshua has an olive-toned complexion and an astigmatism that keeps him wearing black framed glasses, medium-toned brown hair falling in his face in the way of all other teenage boys. His twin, Issac, is much the same, just without the glasses and the nervous habit of picking at his cuticles.

Joshua Weber doesn't say anything after his outburst, seemingly frozen, and Bella frowns at the top of his bowed head.

"You aren't a freak," she says after a moment, internally wincing at how trite she sounds. But she isn't sure what to do. If this was Seth, she would already be folding him into a hug, probably while Leah goaded him into spilling his secrets.

Joshua, somewhat predictably, scoffs and says, "What do you know?"

_Teenagers_, Bella thinks faintly. _Always so sure that they're alone in the world_.

Still, she manages to hum placidly, reaching across the table to close his math textbook. "Well, I'm your tutor, aren't I?" she asks lightly. "I know a lot of things."

"You don't know about this," Joshua insists, glaring at her behind his glasses.

Bella stares back, expectant. "Try me."

For a long moment, it doesn't look like Joshua will be saying much of anything. But then, like bursting dam, he starts talking about how _confused_ he is - how distracted he is when the guy who sits in front of him in math so much as breathes, how it makes him angry and nervous and a hundred other things that he thinks are _wrong_. Joshua is a minister's kid. He's been raised a certain way, and while the Lutheran church ministered by his father has never outright condemned homosexuality - well, like Joshua alludes, there is a lot of grey area in what is and isn't welcomed by the church. It's an additional stress, because on top of being uncertain about his own sexuality, Joshua Weber isn't sure his own family will love him if he is in fact gay.

It's awful. And honestly, it's no wonder he's failing math. Bella is surprised he's not failing other subjects, too. She distinctly recalls a time in high school where Leah was so caught up in her own confusion that she failed more than half her classes. Bella had barely scraped her own passing grades not long after, when it dawned on her that she was confused about certain things, too.

Growing up is stressful - and sometimes its worse for others. She doesn't think anyone can really, _truly_ relate to that kind of realization, not even people who have gone through it themselves. It's all so personal, and nobody walks the same path the same way. But even still, she feels a keen sympathy for Joshua Weber.

Is it her place to offer advice? She isn't sure. But spurred by the sight of this kid, who is younger than her own brother, being so _torn up_ about something he can't control, she finds it difficult to hold herself back. And so she starts talking, sharing her own experiences.

Because she has been there, in a way. As a teenager, she felt so out of step and out of place with her peers, who were driven by lustful hormones and jumped between crushes week by week. She would listen to Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory drool over boys and celebrities, sometimes with frankly graphic language, and struggle to offer any input when they asked her opinion. She hadn't any idea _how_ to offer input - she simply couldn't relate. Naturally, any teenager would be confused, even start to worry. It wasn't as if Bella didn't have an interest in sex or romance like Leah; for Bella, the problem seemed to be the _people_ part of it. Bella had to come to terms with the fact that she couldn't feel that way about people unless she had some connection to them - and even then, as her single ill-fated kiss with Jake had proved, it wasn't a foolproof thing. It's hard not to feel a little broken, like her pieces didn't add up, when she couldn't seem to physically love someone she is truly close to. Coming to terms with that, even with support from family and friends, is something that takes time. And she's all too aware that for some, making peace with it just doesn't - or can't - happen.

Maybe it's being back home, being near the places where she made peace with herself, that inspires some wisdom for her to pass down. Or maybe she doesn't want to learn that Joshua Weber is another kid who never finds acceptance within himself, if not with his loved ones. She just wants to help, and so she shares her own experiences as succinctly as possible.

"It's always going to be hard, but you aren't alone," she adds honestly at the end, after she's sketched the bare bones of her younger self's confusion. "It does get better. And I think, knowing your family, you might find more support than you expect. But there's nothing _wrong_ with you, Joshua. You aren't a freak. And, you know, you're not even bad at math. You just need to remember that all problems can be solved."

"All problems can be solved…" Joshua looks at her with glassy eyes, then sniffles, wiping his nose. "Yeah, okay. Okay."

Bella isn't sure if she helped. Maybe. Maybe not. He seems a little more settled, either way.

Of course, given the delicacy of their topic, he naturally jumps like a skittish cat when the front door slams and a feminine voice calls, "I'm home! Is anyone here?"

Bella turns right as Angela Weber, still as thin and honey-faced as ever, steps into the kitchen, watching out of the corner of her eye as Joshua fidgets, then springs up with an excuse that he left something in his room. Both Bella and Angela's eyes follow him as he races up the stairs, and then the kitchen settles into the type of quiet that only happens around old acquaintances.

Angela slips her Northface jacket off her shoulder, folding it over her arm, and smiling slightly at Bella. "I heard what you said," she says after a beat. "About…you know."

Bella hesitates. "Oh…"

Angela leans forward, just a bit, as if she is about to tell a secret. "I think you're right, you know," she whispers, glancing at the stairs. "Between you and me, we all know about Joshua and his - And, well, anyway, it's been hard watching him struggle with it by himself. He's never been a scared kid, you know?"

Bella relaxes into the wooden chair. "Then, your family is accepting…?"

"Of course we are," Angela answers simply. "Love is love. Dad ministers from the ELCA, anyway."

"Oh, that's good then," Bella says warmly.

Angela nods and smiles, the subject dropped easily. Angela has always been like this, always open but never pushing, and Bella has always appreciated how refreshing that attitude is.

Seeing that Joshua has apparently abandoned their tutoring session, Bella starts gathering all of her materials, shrugging into her jacket to ward off the steady rain outside. All the while, Angela engages her with causal small talk. Apparently, Angela is heading back to the University of Washington sometime next week, and she heard her mother mention that Bella would be going back to Stanford around that time. Much to Bella's delight, Angela offers a ride to SeaTac since it's on the way, and Bella accepts happily. Angela offers a hug before Bella leaves, a solid, if brief embrace that radiates Angela's own gratitude.

Bella smiles all the way home, even as the rain starts pelting her shoulders and thunder rumbles distantly overhead. It has been a good day overall, if not slightly more emotionally charged than she anticipated.

At home, Pistachio is the one who greets her at the door. She looks at the dog, who is yipping and wagging his tail in greeting, and suspiciously asks, "Did you do anything weird?"

It's a valid question, considering more than one of Bella's socks have been sacrificed to the puppy's playtime, But after a cursory inspection of the house, it seems like Pistachio is simply very happy that someone has come home. Apparently, Bella is the first to return. She supposes Leah is down in La Push again, and Seth is obviously still at summer school, while the parents are, of course, still at work.

Maybe she should make dinner so that nobody will have to cook when they come home? No. Bella dismisses the thought quickly. She isn't allowed to cook - she shouldn't even be allowed in the kitchen, honestly. She's an honest-to-God disaster and can't be trusted near a stove.

_I'll just order pizza later,_ she decides. She knows her limits, and ordering pizza is about as culinary as her skills get.

Bella looks down at Pistachio, considers the weather outside where the rain is letting up, and smiles. "Well, it's just you and me," she says, reaching for his leash, which is just as green as his namesake. "How about a walk?"

Pistachio wiggles and barks in excitement, which Bella takes as approval.

It's been a good day.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Paparazzi  
Okay I know you have them  
Now delete them

Thorny  
Idk what you're talking about

Short Cake  
Hi Leah!  
Feeling better?

Paparazzi  
I'm great  
Except for one thing

Sleep Talker  
Oh?

Paparazzi  
Yeah, oh  
I know what you did Rose  
Now delete them

Thorny  
I'm totally innocent

Paparazzi  
Bullshit

Thorny  
It's true!  
But you know…  
I don't think your name suits you anymore

Paparazzi  
What

(_Thorny has changed Paparazzi's name to Bellybutton_)

Thorny  
That's better  
Don't you agree

Bellybutton  
This bitch

Short Cake  
Uh oh

Sleep Talker  
Yeah, ditto

Bellybutton  
Okay first shut up geek  
I can SEE you LAUGHING

Sleep Talker  
:)

Bellybutton  
And second I know I have Regrets  
But I don't need the reminder!  
Change my name back!

Thorny  
Pass  
This one matches my blackmail

Bellybutton  
Oh I see how it is  
Fine

(_Bellybutton has changed Thorny's name to Instahoe_)

Instahoe  
What, is that supposed to hurt my feelings  
Can I help it if I'm good at my job?

(_Bellybutton has changed Instahoe's name to Raging Bitch_)

Raging Bitch  
Oh, wow, let me go cry a river  
My poor feelings  
I may never recover

Bellybutton  
Screw you  
Just DELETE THE SCREENSHOTS

Raging Bitch  
What screenshots?  
I don't know about any screenshots

Short Cake  
What about what you sent me?

Raging Bitch  
Alice damnit!

Bellybutton  
HA!  
I knew it!  
Alice has the goddamn receipts!  
Now delete them!

Raging Bitch  
And why should I

Bellybutton  
If you don't I'll be forced to release the  
blackmail I have on you

Raging Bitch  
You'll do what now

Sleep Talker  
Not to butt in here  
But  
How can you use blackmail to get  
your own blackmail deleted?

Raging Bitch  
She brings up a Good Point  
Just what blackmail do you have on me anyway

Bellybutton  
I'd rather not disclose that information

Raging Bitch  
Then why should I delete my blackmail?

Sleep Talker  
Here's a wild idea  
How about we all just not keep blackmail?

Short Cake  
I second this!

Raging Bitch  
I will if she will

Bellybutton  
I will if you change my name back

Raging Bitch  
Fine  
Deal

(_Raging Bitch has changed Bellybutton's name to Paparazzi_)

Paparazzi  
Okay  
Deleted  
Your turn

Raging Bitch  
Not so fast  
Bella for verification

Sleep Talker  
She deleted it  
She had a lot on you, btw

Paparazzi  
Shut up traitor  
Rose, your end of the deal now

Raging Bitch  
Its been deleted

Paparazzi  
How can I believe you?

Raging Bitch  
If I lied and Alice found out, she would cry forever  
Nobody wants to deal with a crying Alice

Short Cake  
Hey!  
But also true

Paparazzi  
I'll accept it for now

Sleep Talker  
Glad that's settled

Short Cake  
:D

(_Short Cake has changed Raging Bitch's name to Thorny_)

Short Cake  
:D :D :D

* * *

Swansong and Master Culler's first official tournament duel goes relatively well. The tournament, which will take place over the course of 1 month for each server before the winners enter the inter-server competition, consists of six rounds. For this first duel they are pit against players on the lower dueling ranking, and that ultimately means that the match is over within minutes. Swansong stays in her cat form the whole time, drawing their opponents into the range of Master Culler's attack. It is almost laughably easy, though she would never admit it out loud.

She and Master Culler are simply too strong of a team. They've trained well and they are prepared - combined, their skills are like solid steel walls. She thinks it might be a bit early to tell, but they might have this whole competition locked in the bag. There is one player, Amuunn who ranks second on the dueling list and who might present a problem, but only if they have to fight against him. Privately, Bella is a little doubtful. Like Relentless, Amuunn's in-game partner is ranked significantly lower than him, meaning he has to work twice as hard protecting her and dealing damage to opponents. Amuun is good, but having a partner that taxes his efforts so much won't help him win.

Swansong and Master Culler have the best shot. According to Janeway, the best of the server agrees. Apparently, players in the NorCal server are already buying tickets for the final match just to see Swansong and Master Culler fight together.

It's some added pressure she hadn't anticipated. But as always, it seems like Bella never can quite predict expectations. And by the time they are halfway through the first bracket, she learns that she can't quite predict her interactions with Master Culler, either.

》**Swansong**: have you ever owned a pet?

《 **Master Culler**: goldfish

》**Swansong**: did they have names?

《 **Master Culler**: of course they had names

《 **Master Culler**: One, Two, and Three

Bella giggles, unabashed. Master Cullen gave his goldfish _numbers_ instead of names. It's clever in a way, but also dispassionate enough to be hilarious.

》**Swansong**: lol

》**Swansong**: those aren't names

《 **Master Culler**: those are perfectly valid names

《 **Master Culler**: or was I supposed to learn how to tell identical fish apart?

》**Swansong**: no lol

》**Swansong**: but anything is better than ripping off Dr. Seuss

《 **Master Culler**: so you say

《 **Master Culler**: why are you asking about pets?

》**Swansong**: oh its my brother's dog

》**Swansong**: cute, but driving me crazy

Pistachio is, at the moment, jumping on and off her bed, running down the stairs and back to carry socks and her dad's slippers between rooms. The dog had spent the duration of the tournament match trying to worm his way onto her lap, which had caused her to make mistakes that might have been critical if not for Master Culler's expertise. Somehow, even though Pistachio is supposed to be Seth's dog, Bella has wound up taking care of him instead, simply by the virtue of being home more often than not.

It's a cute dog, but Pistachio has a lot more energy than Bella. She is so very much not a dog person.

《 **Master Culler**: can't say I'm a fan of dogs

《 **Master Culler**: cats are much better

》**Swansong**: right?

》**Swansong**: cats are great!

》**Swansong**: they were worshiped for a reason

Part of her is infinitely pleased that Master Culler also prefers cats over dogs. It's not like it matters, not even a little bit, but she likes learning where they're interests match up. Master Culler becomes more _real_ to her that way, more than just a handle and an avatar on a screen. He's a person, a crafty, clever person who can't name his goldfish and likes cats, kind and thoughtful in his own way. And Bella likes this person, her friend and her partner.

《 **Master Culler**: they're still worshiped now, in a way

》**Swansong**: that's true

》**Swansong**: who didn't love Grumpy Cat?

《 **Master Culler**: me

》**Swansong**: oh really?

《 **Master Culler**: my brother once compared me to Grumpy Cat

《 **Master Culler**: it was offensive

Bella bites her lip, trying to hold back the smile. The Grumpy Cat meme had been popular from her time in high school all way until last year, and is one of her personal favorite memes. If Master Culler is only a little older than her, then he probably got a lot of ribbing from his brother. But more than that, learning that Master Culler has been compared to Grumpy Cat tells her so much about him, gives her a little something extra to learn. After all, not just anyone is compared to a perpetually scowling cat.

She pauses, tries to imagine the person on the other side of the chat dialogue, pictures Master Culler in the flesh with a permanent scowl etched on his face. From what she knows of him, it almost fits. Master Culler, she thinks, would be the serious type - and according to his stories about his roommates, he probably is the voice of reason, the adult in the room.

Master Culler as Grumpy Cat. Yes, it seems fitting.

》**Swansong**: not if its true lol

《 **Master Culler**: do I remind you of Grumpy Cat?

》**Swansong**: if you did, I don't think it's a bad thing lol

《 **Master Culler**: mark your words

Bella, although she can't help smiling at the screen, wonders what Master Culler means by _that_. She chalks it up Master Culler's shrewdness and writes it off.

They chat late into the night.

* * *

**Google Search**

Grumpy Cat  
About 53,700,000 results (0.47 seconds)

**Grumpy Cat - Wikipedia**

_Tardar Sauce, nicknamed Grumpy Cat, was an American Internet celebrity cat. She was known for her permanently "grumpy" facial appearance, which was caused by an underbite and feline dwarfism…_

* * *

Only a few days before Bella is set to return to campus, the results of the video contest are announced. Although the results are posted to the Dawn of Warcraft general forum, she first learns the outcome from an email sent from the HQ of the company that develops the game letting her know that the video she posted won, and that Volturi would be in contact soon to discuss the grand prize.

So when Janeway practically _leaps_ on a chance to tell her the news, Bella is proud - and maybe a little smug - to be able to say that, for once, she already knew what was happening in the forum. Or at least, she knows most of what's happening on the forum.

Janeway, of course, manages to know more, trolling the gossip mill as she does.

《 **Janeway**: everyone is talking about how you guys scared those asshats away

《 **Janeway**: and by asshats I mean Relentless and Queen V

《 **Janeway**: but mostly Relentless, bc he let it happen

Bella shakes her head, a little exasperated. Leave it to the forum to find a dramatic spin that doesn't exist. Sure, she and Master Culler are a good team, but they aren't _scary_. That's a bit of an exaggeration, isn't it?

》**Swansong**: we didn't scare anyone

》**Swansong**: we aren't scary

《 **Janeway**: right okay

《 **Janeway**: because neither of you are playing to win? Pssh

》**Swansong**: well….

_It's true enough, isn't it_? Bella thinks, sucking her teeth in consideration. But then again, who would play a tournament, let alone a game, without the intention of winning? Better yet, who would do _anything_ without the expectation of success? Isn't that the whole point to, well, everything? Nobody likes to lose.

Is it possible that she and Master Culler _especially_ don't like to lose? Well. Maybe. But that's just something they have in common - and she doesn't think its anything out of the ordinary for gamers. Not really.

《 **Janeway**: anyway it's a good thing

《 **Janeway**: really seals in the idea that Relentless and Queen V are shitty

《 **Janeway**: first that video, then to be total cowards? Smh

》**Swansong**: is that really what people are saying?

《 **Janeway**: would I lie to you?

No, Janeway wouldn't lie to her. She has no reason to. If Janeway says that the chatter is scorning any perceived cowardice on the part of Relentless and Master Culler, then that's exactly what's happening. Whether it's deserved or not is another question. Bella isn't sure how she feels about it, or even if she should feel anything at all.

With the grand prize from the video contest fresh in her mind, she mostly feels like any scores between herself and her previous partner - and his new partner - are settled. Aren't they? She doesn't get why any of this is dragging on any more than it has to, other than the fact that people just like to talk and speculate. Leave anyone alone on the internet long enough and these things happen - that's how both conspiracy theories and baseless rumors are born.

Several pings of the private chat's dialogue draws her attention again.

《 **Janeway**: but tbh them losing and being ashamed?

《 **Janeway**: couldn't happen to nicer people

》**Swansong**: wow you're mean lol

《 **Janeway**: lol ikr

《 **Janeway**: its why you love me right

》**Swansong**: I mean, I guess…

《 **Janeway**: oh okay I see how it is

《 **Janeway**: now that you have Master Culler you don't need me

《 **Janeway**: he's your everything now and I'm nothing, I get it

A hot flush of blood rushes to Bella's cheeks. Her mouth drops open, then snaps closed as she hastily taps at the keyboard, jumping for denial because it is _not like that_, not at all!

》**Swansong**: he's my friend!

《 **Janeway**: and I'm a monkey's uncle

《 **Janeway**: aunt

《 **Janeway**: whatever, the point is I'm calling it now!

》**Swansong**: calling what now?

《 **Janeway**: that you're gonna make some rumors true this year

《 **Janeway**: I'm so glad I get first row seats!

Bella huffs at Janeway's insistence, ignoring the flutter between her ribs at the barest implication of what she's suggesting. Janeway has it _so_ wrong. But if this is what Janeway is saying, then what is the _rest_ of the server saying?

Bella doesn't want to know - and she has a feeling that if she keeps talking to Janeway, she's going to find out whether she wants to or not.

》**Swansong**: okay, I'm logging off now

《 **Janeway**: lol byeeeee

Bella logs off, closes the lid of her laptop with a fine _click_. Regardless of whatever is churning on the forum and Janeway's teasing, she's still beyond pleased with the results of the video contest. Taking the high road works, something she hopes to impress upon her own partner - Master Culler is a little too keen on brisk solutions, like how he handled Hive. If Master Culler can impart wisdom on protecting a reputation and seeking appropriate retribution, then she can lead by example on how the more delicate path is equally as prudent.

Her lips turn up in a private smile. She titters at the thought of how he might react if she started to lecture him about how to handle people tactfully.

_Actually_, she reconsiders with no small amount of glee, realizing that Master Culler might have his own strong opinions on the matter. _I would enjoy that debate!_

She'll have to remember to bring it up.

* * *

Alice Bee **ʘ****aliceseesyou****  
**I'll miss home cooking at the dorms :( why can't granny fit in my carry-on? #byebye #gumbo

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**Big mood #missmyfamily #missmyfoodmore

* * *

Sue won't release her from the hug, but Bella doesn't mind too much. The last two days have been full of fretful worrying, with Sue double-checking her luggage and making sure that Bella's summer semester isn't going to be too stressful. It's the kind of overbearing motherly attention Bella sorely missed from Renee, so she cherishes what Sue freely gives.

And it isn't as if Sue is the only one - Charlie had pulled her aside not twenty minutes ago to pass along a thin envelope of cash and a brand new can of pepper spray, along with a gruff reminder to not walk alone at dark and stay in public areas during the day. He'd done it all in with the same gruff, awkward flair he does everything else, and it only makes her appreciate it more, knowing how much her dad struggles with emotional _anything_.

Her siblings, on the other hand, had been heavy-handed with the teasing, even if Seth had looked crestfallen anytime he thought nobody was looking. Leah, knowing she would be back in California within the next month or so, hadn't been half as tearful about the good-byes - but Bella can see it, just a little, right in the clench of Leah's jaw.

Nobody likes the departure. It's probably the worst thing about going to an out-of-state college, this repeated scene between semesters when the reunion is over. Bella used to think it would get easier, but she's reminded every time that it's always just as hard as the first time. The only difference is she's gotten a little better at not letting anything except an even-keel calm ripple across her expression - the few tears of upset are always saved for the car or the plane.

"Do you have everything you need?" Sue asks, probably for the third time.

"I have everything, Mom," Bella says placating. "And I know if I need anything, I can call."

Sue releases her after one final squeeze, stepping back to stand beside Charlie, who reaches out to ruffle her hair with a simple, "Atta girl."

If Charlie looks a little red around the eyes, nobody says anything. Bella just smiles slightly, then turns to raise her palm in a subdued wave to her siblings.

"Don't let Alice mess up the dorm," Leah reminds her. "She can be a slob in her own room."

"How would you even know if the dorm got messy?" Bella teases.

"Oh, I'll know," Leah says smartly, if not a little ominously.

Bella shoots Seth a pointed look. "Take care of Pistachio," she says. "And don't let Leah bully you too much."

Leah's undignified _hey_ is ignored as Seth beams, jiggling Pistachio against his chest. "Yeah, yeah," he says. "Go be smart and stuff, okay?"

Bella titters, just a bit, and with one final wave at her family she jogs down the driveway where Angela has been graciously and patiently waiting, her little Camry idling on the street. Bella stows her luggage in the backseat, pops into the passengers seat, and buckles herself in, all while firmly keeping her eyes forward. If she looks at her family while she leaves, she might really start crying. The burn behind her eyes is enough.

It isn't until they exit Forks proper that Angela lets out a sigh of her own, reaching over to flip on the radio to fill the mutual silence. "_Parting is such sweet sorrow_, huh?"

"It is," Bella agrees, and settles back to stare at the trees as they speed onto the highway.

It really is.

* * *

**A/N: Ah, Bella is finally starting to catch come kind of feeling about Master Culler - she's thinking about him on the beach, she's growing fond of their chats, she's well on her way to feeling the kind of emotional tie she needs to fall into romantic love, even if _she_ doesn't quite realize it yet. Who will point it out to our oblivious girl? Who knows! I do know that some smart people can be _incredibly_ dense - IQ doesn't equal EQ, you know?**

**Re: some concerns readers have about how much information Masen has access to about Bella, _do not forget_ that she already knows ALL about Masen Cullen, has admired his accomplishments from afar for 2 years, and has downloaded his independently released software. Do they know the same amount? No, of course not, because Bella has authorized Leah to use her as a documentary subject and Bella herself has a public persona as Swanning. But that doesn't mean that Bella doesn't know _anything_ about Masen Cullen, even if she doesn't realize yet that Masen Cullen and Master Culler are the same people. The balance isn't as unequal as you think, so don't be fooled!**

**Re: eagerness for Bella and Masen to meet soon...LOL Yeah, okay, sure they'll meet _real soon _:) :) :)**

**_So many _additional fact-type notes on this chapter! **

**We'll start from the top with Quileute Nation - all information has been gathered directly from the Quileute Nation website, which has some resources for information regarding Indian Country Etiquette, tribe news and events, and some Quileute creationism lore surrounding the old Raven. Representing that information accurately was important to me, and I encourage everyone to read up on the history of Quileute Nation when you have time.**

**Second, the legalization of marijuana in Washington State. Recreational and medical use of marijuana has been legal in Washington for several years, so long as the buyer and user is at least 21 years old. Washington cracks down on underage use or possession, as well as selling to those who are not of legal age, unless otherwise determined by a medical professional for medicinal use. As it is, dispensaries that produce edibles - cookies, candies, etc. - have to regulate products, which means that any taste testers must also be of legal age for consumption. There is, of course, a difference between intentional and accidental ingestion (see: previous references to _accidental_ _high_). It is also common practice for dispensaries to grow their own marijuana plants, which are regulated by the state. And of course, marijuana has several different strains, which people react differently to; some strains are engineered to produce a calming reaction, others to relieve pain, and recreational strains to stimulate brain activity.**

**Third, homosexuality and the Lutheran Church. As indicated in-story, there is a _huge_ grey area on this subject in Lutheran churches. The official stance of Missouri Synod is that homosexuality is not in line with the bible, but that Lutherans are encouraged to "compassionately minister" to homosexuals - basically, the essence of "hate the sin, love the sinner". However, other branches of the Lutheran religion have a vastly different view. Since 1991, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) has been the most accepting branch of Lutherans to the LGBTQ community at large. Like all religion, it's a bit of a crapshoot between what is "sin" and what isn't. For Minister Weber, he follows the ELCA, which means he would still love and accept a gay son.**

**Grumpy Cat is, of course, a popular meme that came about because a cat named Tardar Sauce had a grumpy face. The Grumpy Cat meme really hit a peak sometime in 2014-2015, and held strong all the way until the time of Tardar Sauce's death in 2019. Grumpy Cat is probably one of the more enduring memes, probably because it was able to gather a social following through constant updates on Tardar Sauce's life. I highly recommend looking up Grumpy Cat memes on Google Image, because a lot of them are hiliarous!**

**Anyway! That's it for the day! I'll probably have another update tomorrow, a _shorter one_ because this beast was 10k. Until then, stay safe, stay at home, and wash your hands!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	24. swan says no native erasure

**[YouTube Video]**

Swan Says No Native American Erasure  
**ClarityIsClear  
**640k views/Posted 5 years ago

(The camera view is low-quality and narrow, the type of video taken from a phone, shaky and slightly indistinct. The first view is the inside of a meticulously organized locker, but then shifts away from alphabetized text books to face a girl at a neighboring locker, who is rifling through her backpack with a mild expression.

The green-eyed girl, cheeks freckled and round with youth, pulls out a stack of papers held together with a huge binder clip. She lifts her head, wafting the stack triumphantly. "I'm ready," she says to the person holding the camera, carefully not making eye contact with the actual lens.

"You're really doing this," says the girl holding the camera, tone a little dismayed.

The green-eyed girl pulls herself up in affront. "Of course I am! Coach Cowan should be teaching _real_ American history, not the editorialized crap in the book! What better day than right before stupid Columbus Day?" She huffs, a terse pinch between her brows. "Coach wasn't so busy planning for another failed football season, _maybe_ he would have the time to teach us facts instead of white-washed nonsense!"

"Sick burn, dude," says the girl behind the camera.

The green-eyed girl frowns. "Do you, like, not care about this at all, Leah?"

Leah, who is apparently the one filming all of this, is quick to respond. "Of course I care. How can I not care? Look at how small the La Push res is now, compared to like 100 years ago. I care a lot," she says firmly. Her tone then turns sly. "But why do I need to get worked up when you're doing it for me? You _never_ lose your chill, but look at you now."

"I guess this is why you're abandoning all subtly and filming me right now?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The green-eyed girl shifts her gaze right to the camera. "Really?" she asks dryly.

"Oh, bite me," Leah grouses. "You said you'd be my subject, didn't you? This is a great opportunity, Bella!"

Bella, the green-eyed girl with the pretty face, sighs as if resigned. "Just don't get caught, I guess."

Leah snorts. "Yeah, out of the two of us, I don't think _I'm _the one at risk of suspension."

Bella gives her a dirty look.

"Well, you're the one who's been planning on deliberately pissing off your history teacher, for at least the last two weeks," Leah says at length, maybe a bit defensively. "Nobody is going to care about what I'm doing. Look, you even printed _brochures_."

Bella rolls her eyes and marches off.

Leah takes a moment to spin the phone around so that the camera is pointing at her, too close, showing her laughing dark eyes, brows raised in expectation. "This is going to be really great or really awful, viewers," she says to the camera. "What's going to go down is basically Bella Swan losing her shit, as politely as you please, and it's going to be glorious. The last time she was this worked up about something, she ended up punching our friend and breaking her own hand. Not that he didn't deserve it - he was bullying my brother - but still! Anyway! Let's hurry and catch up."

Leah turns the camera back around and rushes to catch up to Bella, who by now has navigated through half an outdoor hallway and stands on the threshold of a classroom. Bella steps into the room, stops and narrows her eyes at the white board reading _Christopher Columbus_, and then practically stomps to one of the first-row desks. Leah and the phone camera follow at a more sedate pace.

The camera catches Bella sorting through various print-outs, before popping up to place a sheet of paper on each desk in the room, and then a larger stack on the desk at the front. She then sits down, ignoring the questions and stares of other students, and seems to wait patiently for the bell to ring.

Bella straightens up marginally when an middle-aged man, dressed in jeans and track jacket, comes into the room. He is presumably Coach Cowan, because he steps right up to the desk at the front, sets down a thermos of coffee, and lifts up the stack of papers - he reads them only for a few seconds before he puts the stack down and spins around to the class with half a scowl already in place.

"What is this?" he asks loudly, gesturing to the papers on his desk, to the paper on all the desks in the room. "What is this all about? Who is responsible? Someone answer me right now -"

Bella stands up, hands clasped in front of her stomach, and the camera follows, the angle down low as if being held near the surface of the desk.

"Those are my papers," Bella says calmly, and some students in the class snicker.

Coach Cowan, round in the middle and grizzled in the face, draws himself up. "You'd better start explaining yourself, Ms. Swan, and it had better be good if you're disrupting my class like this."

Bella Swan speaks promptly. "Christopher Columbus is a liar, a rapist, a murderer, and is responsible for the enslavement and genocide of the Tiano Indians in the Caribbean, not to mention countless other Native peoples who -"

"Bella Swan!" Coach Cowan says sharply.

"Coach Cowan!" Bella Swan returns, albeit more softly. "We shouldn't be celebrating Columbus Day, or even learning about Christopher Columbus as if he was an honorable explorer! He didn't even step foot in Northern America, and what he did is - is - it's just _wrong_ that we have to learn about him as if he's done something good!"

"That isn't for you to decide," Coach Cowan tells her.

"But shouldn't it be?" Bella counters, and the rest of the classroom is silent, students watching and listening with bated breath. "Shouldn't we be learning about what _really_ happened, and not the whitewashed nonsense in these textbooks? This isn't real history!"

"You don't get to say what's history and what's not. Now, sit down, Ms. Swan, so I can start my lesson."

Bella does not sit down. She raises her chin defiantly, and says, "I don't want to learn about Christopher Columbus, and I don't think anyone else should, either-"

"Swan!"

Bella raises her voice to be heard. "We shouldn't support Native erasure by celebrating Columbus Day! Not to mention celebrating this day is only supporting the _gross_ institutionalized racism baked into the US Constitution and the continued atrocities against Native peoples and their land _still_ committed by the government - "

Some classmates chime an agreement, but Coach Cowan doesn't appear to hear them. "That's enough! Sit down or get out of my class, Swan!"

Bella's posture falters for a moment, a flicker of draining courage. She bends down to pick up her backpack and hoists it over her shoulder. She takes herself to the doorway, the camera following her after catching the reddening tone of Coach Cowan's face.

"You can take yourself all the way to the front office to speak with the principal!" Coach Cowan says hotly.

Bella leaves, but not without a chorus of whoops, hoots, and claps following her. The camera captures the chaos of the classroom as Coach Cowan tries to cow the students who have already read the plucky printed brochure Bella Swan left on their desks. A few more students are sent from the classroom too, inspiring a walkout for the entire class in under five minutes.

Leah is the last one to leave the classroom, after capturing a parting shot of Coach Cowan seething at the front of the room, papers clutched in one hand.

Leah steps out of the classroom, closes the door behind her, and spins the camera around her face her. She has a complicated expression on her face, part proud, part serious. "Whether or not they walked out because they agree with Bella, or they just wanted an opportunity to skip class…I don't think that matters," she says thoughtfully. "Part of me thinks it's all pointless, because the school isn't going to change anything or teach anything different. But…it's still nice…."

A small smile creeps up on Leah's face. "You know," she says conspiratorially to the camera. "She's going to be my sister. Our parents are getting married soon. I thought, you know, starting high school here instead of the Res would be weird, but it's not. Bella…she _cares_ about this kind of stuff. It…means a lot to me, you know, because of my own heritage. She's…going to be a great sister, I think."

Leah sniffles, a little teary-eyed, and then adopts a more brisk tone. "Now, I should probably go find my film subject and see how her little rebellion is going. Later! Oh, uh, and don't forget to like and subscribe to my channel!"

The video ends abruptly, but not before final black screen reading _Bella Swan was suspended for 1 day for disrupting class, but she was not grounded! Victory is sweet!_)

**Comments**

WillisIsNice  
Whoa can't say I'd be so bold

Mnewton  
She's so hot

PaulyHatesTheCracker  
She did us proud, its all anyone's talking about at the res

**View More Comments**

* * *

**A/N: I will _never_ get over the fact the SM really saw the Quileute Tribe and thought, "Hey, wouldn't it be fun if I made up a tribal legend for them?". There are _no_ wolf-related stories in the Quileute folklore - it's all about the Raven and the whale, and to be frank, any dog-type Native lore anywhere is related to _coyotes_. So, on the whole, using wolves was dumb for two reasons (wolves are not coyotes, and Quileute use _ravens_), and that's on top of just straight-up erasing the Native culture for her own devices, which is just _grossly_ offensive. The best rule of thumb if you really, really want to use a Native culture in fiction, is to either pay exact homage to the culture, or pull a Tolkien and just invent your own. Otherwise, it's insulting and disgustingly privileged.**

**I mean, is vampires vs werewolves (shapeshifters, wtvr) a classic in genre fiction? Of course it is - when done well, like in Underworld, it's even fantastically cult. But erasing Native folklore to use as a vehicle for your own storytelling? Not cool.**

**Now, whether or not this applies to, say, using Norse or Greek mythology as a basis for a story is something of a grey area. For the most part, I think authors who use other culture folklore and mythology (including myself) honor the spirit and integrity of the original tales - the lore is embellished, rather than erased. Using ancient mythology to craft a story is vastly different than taking a culture and replacing everything about it to suit your needs.**

**To that end - I have _significant issues_ with Columbus and the American education system. Columbus didn't discover North America, for one, and for two he facilitated the rape, genocide, and enslavement of native people in South and Central America. He was a truly awful man, and to boot he couldn't read a friggin' map, either. We Americans, of course, choose to glorify him only because of a false narrative about how "great" it was that he discovered "new" land, which he then decided to steal from native peoples, much like colonists in every other part of the world - and that makes us Americans trash. The fact that Columbus Day is a national holiday boils my blood every year. Hopefully at some point in the future, history teachers will stop teaching from the book and teach _actual_ history.**

**Anyway.**

**Obviously, I have an _opinion_ about this. You don't have to share it or agree with it. It's just there. I hope that I can continue to write mindfully and continue to grow. Thank you to certain readers who engage in the intellectual argument with me! Let's continue growing together!**

If you are interested in learning more, please look up NonProfit Quarterly and information about Indigenous People's Day, which _should definitely replace Columbus Day_ on our national calendar. /indigenous-peoples-day-combating-the-erasure-of-native-people/

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, and stay cautious!**

**~Rae**


	25. nomad ain't mad

**[nomad ain't mad]**

"_Go get lunch, Pete_," Peter parrots mockingly, slouching down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and face twisted up in a faint jeer.

Part of him can't believe he's been sent away on an errand, while another part is relieved to get some distance from the frankly disturbing amount of intensity at the office. All day Masen has been walking around with this dumb constipated look on his face, his ear attached to a bluetooth speaker as he talks _at_ someone - probably an investor, one of the ones that stupid Denali Corp. is trying to steal away so they can pressure Midnight Sun into brokering an exclusive contract to essentially _steal _Pagan Immortals. Which, no thanks, not happening. Masen is at the helm, because that's what he does, but it doesn't mean its been exactly pleasant. While Masen has been rattling off numbers and figure and fuck knows what else that Emmett passes to him, Peter has done his best to keep his head down and stay out of the way.

But, can anyone _really_ blame Peter if he was getting bored? There's only so much coding one man can do, and anyway, all of his projects and tasks are already done. Granted, he probably could have done something _other_ than write a quick program that loads lewd images onto Alistair's screen every time he tries to use a specific tool on his animation screen - but is that _really_ a reason to treat him like this, to shoo him away to go get food?

No, it isn't. Peter is _offended_.

Like, he deserves to be punished, because he was being a dick, but being sent out for lunch like some gopher? He's not an _intern_! He's a founding partner!

Well. Okay. Midnight Sun doesn't have interns yet, can't really afford them what with how Masen had been so adamant on giving everyone good healthcare - not that that's a bad thing! - so it isn't as if they _could_ have sent an intern out. And even if they _did_ have an intern, it's not like Peter would be treating them shitty and giving them useless tasks, because he's been on the other side and he hated it. But still! They could have used GrubHub or something!

Peter kicks at a empty coke can, frowns as it skitters across cement, and then hurries to go pick it up, dropping it in the nearest trash can.

He recalls the cold stare Masen gave him after Peter undid his prank, and the quick out that Emmett gave him - _go get lunch, Pete -_ to spare Peter from Masen's stress-induced wrath. He reconsiders his objections.

Better to be outside on a totally legitimate errand than on the receiving end of Masen's dead-eyed glare. In fact, he's _glad_ he's out of the office-slash-home! He needed some sun away. Vitamin D is good. Peter doesn't want scurvy - which he can definitely, like, _probably_ get if he stays indoors too much. Or something. It works like that, right?

Whatever.

The point is, Peter is _pleased as fucking punch_ to be skipping out on another boring work day. This is, like, a field trip for him. Totally.

Peter's feet take him to his new favorite place for grub, a wide grin stretching across his face as he sees the NOMAD food truck open and ready for business. There aren't a lot of customers either, because it's closer to two than noon, which means they'll have plenty of time to prepare the huge-ass order he has to bring back.

Peter darts across the street and up to the menu hanging right beside the order window, written in chalk. Russian street food is the theme of the day. Cool. It smells _amazing_. Peter's mouth is already watering.

He calls out the order, surely and shamelessly butchering the foreign words. "Hey! Yeah, uh, can I get like, I don't know, a dozen each of the uh, cheburek and pirozhki? Whatever fillings you have is fine - oh, uh, accept no shellfish if that's an option! Don't want to kill anyone!"

Peter laughs at his own joke - and, hey, isn't he a thoughtful friend even when said friend doesn't deserve it? - but his laughter trails off when a newly-familiar face steps into view from the truck's side window.

It's the guy from last time, the cool waiter! He's just as cool-looking as before, all lean muscles bunched into a black t-shirt and smooth sandy skin with dark sculpted scruff. Cool Waiter is just too objectively good looking with those tea-colored eyes and a wavy undercut the color of dark chocolate. Peter didn't even know people this hot actually existed. Even Masen, who is definitely the best-looking person Peter has ever known until this very moment, doesn't hold a flame to Cool Waiter.

This is true even if Cool Waiter is still staring at him with a kind of scowl. Peter figures it's just his face, the heaviness of his brow and the narrowed intensity of his eyes. He's got nice lips, Peter notes. Balances everything out nicely.

"Do you want anything else?" Cool Waiter asks after a moment, still just _staring_ at Peter.

Peter glances at the menu again and scratches his head. "Uh…Like, honestly, I don't even know what this stuff is. I mean, I can Google it, but…" Peter smiles up at Cool Waiter. "You know what? I trust you! Give me whatever."

Cool Waiter nods solemnly, then starts to duck out of view.

Peter practically throws himself halfway into the truck window, craning his neck to get a good view of the kitchen inside, the stainless steel counters lined with food and stuff. Cool Waiter is the only one there, which makes Peter blink rapidly. "Hey, wait! Are you cooking?"

It's kind of a stupid question, because now that he's looking, he can see Cool Waiter is wearing a black apron and wielding an impressive knife over a cutting board. Cool Waiter doesn't say anything. Luckily, Peter is well-versed in weighted silences because of Masen, so he get's what Cool Waiter means.

Peter's smile turns sheepish. "It's cool that you cook."

"Own."

Peter's face scrunches up. "Huh?"

Cool Waiter waves the knife around - is that safe? - to gesture to the interior of the food truck. "I own this. It's mine."

Peter's eyes widen in realization and he slaps a hand down on the counter. "Ah! So _you're_ the one responsible for all the orgasmic food!"

The next chop of the knife is a touch too loud, the grip almost faltering. Cool Waiter - no, no, this guy is _totally_ Hot Chef - stares at Peter, mouth open just a little, before he clears his throat and grunts something that sounds like confirmation.

"This is so great," Peter says brightly. "You know, this is the best food I've ever had in my _life_ \- I'm not even kidding. At home, nobody does anything but order-in, because _wow_ can nobody in my family operate a stove. You should see the disaster at Thanksgiving, man, I'm telling you it's not pretty. And, like, dining hall food has _nothing_ on this. You've got some skills, man."

"Thanks."

Peter keeps prattling along happily, watching as Hot Chef prepares a veritable feast for Peter to cart back to the office. The speed and obvious skill is so impressive, even beyond the _incredible_ aroma of all this fried dough and fuck knows what else. Are those mushrooms? Peter doesn't know and he doesn't care. He's happy enough to watch Hot Chef cook and fill the silence, glad that he's the only customer right now.

"Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday," Hot Chef says after he's rung up the total and passed four totally loaded paper bags through the window.

Peter stops. "Huh?"

"The days I do the cooking," Hot Chef says. "Other days, it's someone else. But those are my days."

Peter grins with great enthusiasm. "Thanks, man! I'll keep that in mind! We're a new company around here, so, like, we're probably about to be your best customers."

Hot Chef bobs his head. He, oddly, doesn't look at Peter as he continues, and Peter chalks up the red cheeks to the heat of the truck's kitchen.

Peter goes on his way after leaving a respectable tip. _Hot Chef is such a nice guy,_ he thinks. _Really cool, much cooler than all my other dumb friends_.

And after Peter tastes the delicious food, he vows to visit NOMAD on everyday when Hot Chef is the sole cook. He doesn't want to eat anything else ever again, it's _that_ good. In fact, it's so good that Peter can easily ignore all of Masen's tension for the rest of the day.

Honest. He won't even tease him about Bella Swan! Well, at least until the next day!

* * *

**A/N: Oh _Peter_. Don't mind me, I'm just dropping by to tend to the tertiary plot so it bears some juicy fruit! Expect the next actual chapter next weekend! **

**Ahhh, but as a side note - this story is obviously touching on a lot of conversations that are happening in the world right now. If you have any social issues that you think should be included in the story, feel free to mention it to me. Like I said at the start, part of this story is examining the way the younger generation handles themselves, because Millennials and Gen Z kids care about a lot of the things already mentioned in the story. If you feel that something else can be touched on, please let me know and I'll do my best! **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, and stay inside! **

**~Rae**


	26. chapter 13

**[chapter_13]**

Bella is the first one at the dorm. She knows this because of the slightly stale air that greets her when the opens the door, because of the bathroom light being off and both bedroom doors closed, because everything is neat and tidy and exactly as she left it when she ventures into the room that will be hers until Leah returns in the fall. Bella is the first in the dorm and it is the first time in a _long_ time that she feels lonely in the room. Even when the others are in class or at the library or in their own space, the dorm never feels _empty_ like this. But there's no denying that, even though all their stuff is still here, the space is vacant.

The first thing she does, after setting down her cactus and dragging her suitcase to her bed, is go through and open the windows in the suite. The fresh, warm breeze of summer brings a welcome chill into the room. She putters around for a while, unpacking, sorting through the materials she needs to pick up at the campus bookstore for her classes, dusting the shelves, trying to keep busy and be productive. God knows that when Alice's plane lands tonight she won't be able to do any of the necessary housekeeping.

Bella _should_ be cherishing these moments when the dorm is quiet and clean, but all she can think about is how empty the rest of campus is. Summer semesters are common and classes are always full, but that doesn't mean there aren't fewer students. Compared to how busy and dense campus usually is, the summer semester might as well be a ghost town.

She's exaggerating. It isn't that dramatic. But it sure feels like it. It's just the oddity of the summer semester that she has to get used to again. She'll acclimate.

Until then - and until Alice gets back - Bella does what she can to make her life easier in the next couple of days. Tutoring Joshua Weber didn't pocket as much money as she thought it would, and even with the envelop of cash her dad gave her, she knows the smart thing to do is to make sure she overestimates her living expenses - which means continue to bring in extra revenue. The money in the envelop is put away in a safe space, in case of emergency; anything else she needs that isn't covered by tuition will have to come from Twitch. It's fine. She'll manage. She's luckier than most, she knows.

Bella checks the time. The campus bookstore is open and she has time to kill. She runs over to collect the texts she needs for her next three classes, stocking up on highlighters and Sour Patch Kids while she's there. She takes a detour on her way back, stopping by the library to pick out supplementary materials - nobody could ever accuse her of being a poor student. By the time she makes it back to the dorm, there is a stark difference to how she left it.

Alice must have only just arrived, but already the space if filled with vibrancy and what appears to be a suitcase that managed to explode right in the middle of the common room. There is music playing from _somewhere_ and she can hear Alice fussing in the bathroom, the plastic clunk of bath products being organized into cubbies.

"Alice?"

A gasp, followed by the sound of something being dropped. "Bella?" Alice bounces out of the bathroom, round face lit up with happiness. Her Mississippi drawl is thicker than before, as it always is when she returns to campus, something that will take a week or so to wear itself away. "Bella! You're here! I'm here and you're here! Oh, I missed you so much!"

Alice is squeezing her ribs a tad too tight, but Bella returns the hug. They're almost the same height, she and Alice, and it's nice to be around someone her size after spending a month surrounded by people who make her feel like a dwarf despite her perfectly average height. "I missed you too, Ali," Bella says warmly.

Alice gushes about her time back home, effusive in her enthusiasm as she prattles about the old plantation-turned-hotel, about the blueberry crop, about Granny and Papa and the hoard of tiny cousins that follow her around like ducklings. At some point, she unearths a triple-wrapped foam cask of blueberries, which burst tangy-sweet in Bella's mouth as she listens raptly to her friend. Bella chimes in here and there with her own summer, the things that didn't make it into texts and Twitter updates, lounged back on one of the beanbags in the common room. Alice drapes herself over Bella's legs, giggling at how poorly Seth tried to hide Pistachio and it's - it's _great_. It's almost as good as being home or having Leah by her side.

The dorm is less empty now, and Bella can finally relax. She's home again, in her home away from home.

* * *

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**Me right now  
_(Gif Attachment:  
__Violet Beauregard from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory  
__bloated up like a blueberry and being rolled away by Oompa-Loompas._)

Alice Bee **ʘ****aliceseesyou  
**Have any of you seen someone eat 2 lbs of blueberries in one sitting because I have and wow

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**Tbh sounds like a very Bella thing to do

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete  
**Hey **ʘ****maestro** is 2lbs a lot? It sounds like a lot #impressive #scary #nomnomnom

* * *

Bella's phone rings - like, actually _rings_, not pings with a notification - early Saturday afternoon on the weekend right before the summer semester starts. The ringtone is Leah's handiwork, because in no universe would Bella set her own ringer as the theme from _Psycho_, and she certainly wouldn't set it for her _mom_ of all people. And yet, when Bella lunges for her phone halfway across the room with some amount of confusion, she sees that it is Renee calling and automatically assumes that Leah's more passive aggressive side has once again shown itself.

It's petty to set this ringtone for Renee. Petty, but not necessarily incorrect.

Bella…doesn't have a _great_ relationship with her mom. It's complicated, the whole thing, because Renee is a mother who never wanted to be a mom - and had made that known for Bella's entire life. Renee wants to be a friend or a cool aunt. But a mother? No. Renee isn't suited for it, not in any way. She's barely even qualified to be _anything_ to Bella, because the last time she'd actually seen her mom had been more than five years ago, probably closer to ten. And that last time hadn't been anything stellar or positive. Renee had spent the whole time advising Bella on how to use "_those looks I passed down to you, baby, because what mama gave you can get you anything you want_".

Renee's whole philosophy in life is, as best as Bella can estimate, to use her physical beauty to her advantage. Renee is vapid and cares about material things - people for her are tools, or things to play with. Every few years she'll get married to some poor fool with deep pockets, and then switch to someone new when she gets bored. Bella _thinks_ her current husband is some guy named Phil, who apparently plays baseball. Or maybe not. Bella has given up trying to keep track.

Bella doesn't have a great relationship with her mom, but it's rare that Renee bothers to call instead of sending a scattershot email. So Bella draws in a deep breath and answers the phone.

"Hi, Mom," she says awkwardly, backing up and sitting down on her bed, fingers already playing with the hem of her cotton shorts.

"Bella! Hi, baby! Oh, how's my girl doing?" Renee barely pauses for air before she continues, and Bella doesn't bother injecting with her own answer, simply lets Renee babble as she is wont to do. "I've been traveling around with Phil, you know, with the baseball league and _my, my, my_ do these boys play hard. It's so impressive, baby. They just keep going and going!"

"That's great, Mom," Bella mumbles.

"Baby, you should come down and check it out. You're on your summer break, aren't you? Come down to Florida and see these boys!"

Bella bites her lip. "Actually, I'm on campus," she says haltingly. She can already predict Renee's reaction to this news. "I'm doing summer courses."

True to form, Renee brays rudely. "School in the summer? Baby, that's no way to live! You're young and beautiful - you don't need school!"

"I like school," Bella says, something she has been repeating for years and years.

Renee, of course, doesn't get it. "Bella, Bella," she says, brash and condescending, even if unwittingly. "Baby, when you're beautiful you don't need to be smart. One or the other is good enough. What's all that hard work for, anyway? You're wasting the best years of your life with _books_."

"Computers, actually," Bella says sharply. Her fingers curl around the glass of her phone and she breathes in deeply to keep herself collected. "You know I'm studying computers and-"

Renee clicks her tongue. "That's men's work," she insists. "Pretty girls don't need to know any of those things. Baby, don't waste your beauty. It doesn't last forever, you know. Trying so hard to be smart and keep up with the boys is ridiculous!"

Bella presses her lips together. It's an old argument. Renee has some shockingly antiquated views on the role of women in the world. By Renee's reckoning, women need only be physically beautiful to have value - and this is probably one of the core reasons why Bella eschews the notion so thoroughly. To think that her only value is in her relative level of attractiveness, when she has so much more to offer is just…unfathomable. Of course, Renee Higginbotham, a former beauty queen who dragged herself out of a podunk town and freed herself of the chains of motherhood for bigger, better, shinier prospects, had cultivated an entire _life_ out of doing just that.

How Renee and Sue were ever close enough to be good friends when they are such polar opposites is beyond Bella. She'll never understand it, just like she'll never understand the way her own mother can so callously undercut her intelligence just because Bella happens to be conventionally pretty. And not even for a reason that makes sense! After all, just like Renee says, beauty fades eventually - so wouldn't it be better if Bella spent her time wisely, creating a space for her to exist when being pretty is no longer an option?

If not for the strong resemblance between them - their bone structure, their body shapes, the shared generous smattering of freckles - Bella wouldn't think she and her mother are related at all. But as it is, because this is her _mom_, every word Renee utters is just another cut of the knife.

Bella tries so hard to be more than what can be seen on the surface - and all Renee does is tell her that it's the surface that matters more than anything else.

Shouldn't have answered the phone, Bella thinks, ice forming around her heart, slipping cool into her veins and her voice as she cuts off Renee, who has spent the last however many minutes trying to wheedle Bella into abandoning her classes to go to Florida, where she assumes she will be tasked with doing nothing but appreciating men all day.

"I have to go, Mom," she says tersely. She doesn't even care that Renee is sputtering in shock at the interruption. "I'll talk to you later."

Bella hangs up and hopes that Renee won't call for a few months - and tries not to feel totally _awful_ for it.

* * *

Bell Bell  
Mom called again

Lee Lee  
Oh damn  
You okay

Bell Bell  
Yeah  
It's the same as always

Lee Lee  
Renee Higginbotham  
Setting back the feminist movement  
singlehandedly

Bell Bell  
That's Renee

Lee Lee  
Sorry bb

Bell Bell  
Me too

Lee Lee  
Love you sis

Bell Bell  
Always

* * *

Even after she completes her Twitch stream as Swanning, Bella is still feeling discombobulated because of everything that Renee said. It's stupid and childish, but all Bella has ever wanted from Renee is some sense of validation - which she'll never get, no matter how much she hopes for it, but she can't seem to stop herself from yearning for it, either. It leaves her stomach upset and her appetite poor, which is saying something since Bella can _always_ summon an appetite.

It's not the best mindset to approach the tournament semi-finals with, but there isn't much she can do about it.

Resigned - decidedly _not_ pouting - Bella trundles all of her Swanning equipment into it's correct storage container, then drags herself into her room, closing the door firmly behind her. Leah isn't here, but some of her clothes are, and Bella doesn't hesitate to help herself to one of her sister's absurdly oversized Studio Ghibli sweatshirts. Warmed by familiarity and fond memories - almost as if Leah is here to give her a sorely-needed hug - Bella then sets up her laptop on her bed. She has her back supported by the wall, legs stretched out straight with the laptop perched on her thighs, her best mouse plugged in with the mouse pad sitting right by her hip. She puts on her blue-light canceling glasses as a last-ditch attempt to ward off the headache that has been building as a result of her need - and stubborn refusal - to cry.

She has a tournament to win. She can cry later and dig out the emergency stash of chocolate she has in her desk to properly wallow in how _broken_ her mother-daughter relationship is. But that's for later - now, it's time for the semi-finals.

Bella logs onto Dawn of Warcraft on her Swansong account and takes herself directly to the Arena, mere minutes before one of the other rounds is set to start.

》**Swansong**: sorry I'm late

《 **Master Culler**: no problem

《 **Master Culler**: is everything okay?

》**Swansong**: yeah

It's the first time she's lied to Master Culler. She doesn't like the way it sits in her stomach, another heavy weight that churns there. But she isn't sure - well, she _could_ talk to Master Culler about it, she supposes, but what could he do? And would he even care? They only allied to win this competition. She's certain that as soon as she's no longer useful, he will cancel their alliance and move on. She expects nothing more and nothing less.

She pretends the mere thought isn't upsetting, chalks the tightness in her chest up to her lingering soreness over Renee's remarks.

The semi-final round is disappointingly average. Their opponents aren't any players she recognizes and their playing is undisciplined, which probably means that they were mere lucky breaks who had good fortune to make it this far. Swansong and Master Culler wipe the floor with them in half the challenge time, but it isn't satisfying at all.

Or maybe _Bella_ just isn't satisfied by it. Is her objective opinion too harsh right now? It might be. She doesn't quite feel like her head is screwed on right and she _knows_ she should just log off and do what she can to put herself to rights but - before she can stop herself, her fingers are flying across the keys after she and Master Culler leave the Arena.

》**Swansong**: can I ask you a personal question?

《 **Master Culler**: always

_Always_? Well, that's certainly a promise. She tries not to be doubtful, because Master Culler doesn't have a habit of saying things he doesn't mean, but…

》**Swansong**: do you have trouble with your parents?

》**Swansong**: you don't have to answer

Master Culler answers swiftly, as if she has his full attention. It's flattering, in a way. He's a good friend, isn't he? Even if he's only a temporary partner for her, even if their alliance will end in the near future, she will never be able to doubt that he was a good friend to her.

《 **Master Culler**: family is always difficult

《 **Master Culler**: I've been fortunate that my adoptive parents are very supportive

》**Swansong**: oh

》**Swansong**: I didn't know…

《 **Master Culler**: they were my godparents before, so I always knew them

《 **Master Culler**: they're exceptional people, but every family has expectations, my grandfather in particular

《 **Master Culler**: is that what you mean?

Bella stares at the screen for a beat, trying to reconcile this new bit of information about Master Culler. He's being very forthright about his personal information right now, meeting her tit for tat, but it's still surprising. It makes him…seem more human to her. This is Master Culler, not just a master player and an unrivalled tactician, but also a person with his own struggles.

》**Swansong**: having expectations?

》**Swansong**: more like a lack of expectations

》**Swansong**: my mom seems to think I'm not smart enough for school

》**Swansong**: she thinks I should stop wasting my youth and do what she did

《 **Master Culler**: what did she do?

》**Swansong**: married rich

》**Swansong**: well actually she married poor, had me, left us, and then married rich

《 **Master Culler**: sounds complicated

》**Swansong**: complicated sums up my relationship with her

Bella sighs, gnawing on her lip. She can't believe she's actually bothering Master Culler about this, but it's even more unbelievable that he's entertaining it. He'd never struck her as the type to take on any supporting roll, not even when he's humoring her with nonsensical conversations about the advantages of cats and cat memes.

This is a new side of Master Culler and she isn't sure what to make of it. But that doesn't mean she's going to pass up an opportunity for a new perspective - because Leah and her roommates and her family have all said their piece, and Bella can't help but think maybe fresh eyes will find a new opinion for her to adopt.

》**Swansong**: I just want her to be proud of me

》**Swansong**: it's silly

《 **Master Culler**: it's not silly, it's human

《 **Master Culler**: but if you ask me, trying to make other people proud is an easy way to step on your own pride

》**Swansong**: that's pretty wise

《 **Master Culler**: don't you already believe the same?

《 **Master Culler**: weren't you the one who said your reputation doesn't define your worth?

_He pays attention_, she thinks with muted awe, because when had she said that? Back with Hive? That was several weeks ago - even Bella had forgotten about it. Master Culler remembers, though. What does that mean? He just has a good memory?

》**Swansong**: I guess I did say that…

《 **Master Culler**: take your own advice

》**Swansong**: thanks for the reminder

《 **Master Culler**: anytime

》**Swansong**: do you mean that?

《 **Master Culler**: do I mean what?

》**Swansong**: that I can come to you anytime for advice?

《 **Master Culler**: of course

《 **Master Culler**: I'm at your disposal, do with me what you will

Inexplicably, Bella blushes hotly. He's at her _disposal_? She can _do with him what she will_? Who even says that? And so seriously too?

But the thing is, Bella doesn't know what to do with Master Culler. He's unlike anyone she's ever known and she's starting to realize that maybe she doesn't know what to _do_ with that. For now, she supposes it's just nice to be reassured of such steadfast friendship.

Everyone can use more friends, right?

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Thorny  
So is everyone alive over there

Paparazzi  
I haven't heard any complaints  
And its suspect af

Thorny  
Surely there's something to bitch about

Paparazzi  
With those two angels?  
Dream on, bish

Short Cake  
Who are angels?

Thorny  
You and Bella

Short Cake  
Aww that's so nice!

Sleep Talker  
Wait wait  
Are we supposed to be  
complaining about something

Paparazzi  
You mean you aren't  
You have NOTHING to complain about  
You know you're living with alice right

Short Cake  
Hey!  
I'm not awful to live with!

Thorny  
Well

Paparazzi  
I mean

Sleep Talker  
It is a little messy  
But its confined to one room  
So

Short Cake  
Its not that messy  
You're just too neat

Sleep Talker  
Is that possible

Short Cake  
If I just said so it must be!

Paparazzi  
Alright  
Look  
I appreciate that you're trying  
But these aren't complaints

Short Cake  
They're not?

Thorny  
No! not really  
I'm so disappointed

Sleep Talker  
This is what happens when you  
come looking for drama

Short Cake  
Lol bella's right

Thorny  
Youre both really boring, jsyn

Sleep Talker  
:) :) :)

* * *

On the first day of classes, Alice comes back to the dorm in a right snit, huffing and puffing and uncharacteristically flustered.

Bella happens to be in the common room looking over all the syllabi for her classes and inputting everything important into her Google calendar - something that is much easier to initially manage on the computer. She startles when Alice bursts into the dorm and flinches when the door slams, but her instinct to chide dies right on her tongue when she catches sight of Alice's face.

"Ali?" Bella stands from the desk, abandoning her little project in an instant.

"Bella!" Alice wails, and promptly throws herself into Bella's arms. Much to Bella's alarm, of course, because not only is Alice clearly fighting off tears, she is also _limping_ and in some amount of physical pain, too.

"Ali, what happened?" Bella asks, even as she eases Alice onto one of the bean bag chairs, looking her over with a critical eye. There, right on the side of her bare thigh, is a burst of red, a smack on her skin that will surely bloom into a nasty bruise. Her knee is a little scrapped, too, and the palm of her hand. Did she fall?

"He's awful!" Alice cries, and finally tears of frustration spill over her wide, round eyes. "I've never met a more disagreeable boy in my _life_, and that's saying something because the good ole' boys down South are _somethin' else_! But this guy!"

Bella blinks at the thick drawl that crawls into Alice's voice. She's really upset about whatever happened. Pressing her lips together, Bella tries to determine the best course of action. Well. First thing's first - if Alice is hurt, then she might need medical attention. So, kneeling just to the side of the beanbag, Bella asks, "Do we need to go to the med center, Ali?"

Alice sniffles, seeming considering this question deeply. She bends her knee with a wince, but shakes her head. "No. I don't think so."

"Are you sure? Does it hurt a lot?"

"It's just a lil' scrape," Alice murmurs, downcast as she passes her palm over her bruising skin. "Maybe some ice?"

Bella springs up, glad to have some way to help. They have these instant-ice things stacked on top of the mini-fridge in the corner of the common room, useful for the occasional stubbed-toe or headache. She unpacks one, bending it down the middle, and just like a glow-stick, the packet begins to rapidly cool. She passes it to Alice, then sits beside her on another beanbag, pillowing her cheek in her palm and giving her full, undivided attention.

"So…?"

Alice purses her lips, pressing the ice to her leg. "I fell," she says.

"Yeah, I figured," Bella returns. "But why did you fall?"

Alice puffs her cheeks out. "Well, you know I'm retaking that art history class? The one from fall semester?" At Bella's nod, she continues, talking faster and faster as she gets into her monologue. "Okay, so, I happened to be a itsy bit late because the coffee kiosk was backed up, but I figured I could just sneak in the back because I know this professor and he might have failed me, but he's also kind of cool? Anyway, I get to the class and _lo and behold_ the class is completely full! I mean, it's a smaller classroom because it's summer, but I didn't expect so many people to take the class, you know?"

"Uh huh."

"Right? Anyway, I'm in the back with my coffee and I see an empty seat, so I sneak over, trying not to draw attention, and ask the guy sitting over to scoot over to make room. And he ignores me, like I wasn't even there!" Alice exclaims in disbelief. "So I go_, Please scooch so I can have a seat_, and he finally looks up at me with these ridiculous glasses that don't even _go_ with his bone structure and he says, _You should have been on time_. And I was like, _Well, I'm here now so I need a seat!_ And he just shrugs and goes right back to ignoring me! So, obviously by now people have noticed, but the professor is still going on. I figure, if this guy won't move then I'll just move over him, right?"

With a keen sense of dread, Bella already knows where this story is going. She knows Alice as someone who often does outlandish things, but always with a sort of innocence that makes her actions harmless, if not entertaining. She also knows that Alice is an acquired taste, and she doesn't think this guy from her story is the type to give Alice any leeway. And she's right.

"So, what I do is take off my bag and toss it into the seat. And then I, well, I kind of climb over him to get to the seat, only he gets all out of sorts about this and ends up pushing me," Alice says animatedly. "But when he pushes me down, I lose grip of my coffee, which ends up on _his_ head while I end up on the floor with a sore hip and even sorer pride."

Bella's eyes widen. "Was the coffee hot?"

"No," Alice says, somewhat sullen. "It was iced. I wish it was hot, though. He earned it, that good-for-nothing boy. Because of him we _both_ got kicked out of the first class. And Bella, you know I can't afford to be repeating this class! It was so mortifying!"

Bella hums sympathetically. "Sounds like it, huh? I'm sorry, Ali."

"Yeah, me too," Alice pouts, readjusting the ice. "I mean, I only have this one class to do this summer, so I'm sure I'll be able to pass - but attendance is so important, and I'm already having to juggle because of the internship! That awful boy just added to my problems."

Bella nods in agreement. This guy in Alice's story certainly wasn't helpful - even if Alice was late, why not just move over so that she wouldn't _continue_ to be disruptive? Bella wrinkles her nose at the thought of encountering someone like that. How unpleasant!

"You'll just have to be early to the next class so you can sit far away from him," Bella decides after a moment. "You only have that class twice a week, right?"

"Yeah," Alice sighs. "It works fine with my internship schedule, at least. Did you know my commute is going to be two hours both ways? I'll be on BART six hours every week. My God, I'll have so much time to study!"

In hindsight, Bella is relieved to not have gotten the Denali internship. Unlike Alice, she doesn't have a whole lot of time this semester to spend commuting all the way to Concord and back three times a week. If either of them had a car, it might be a different story - but as it is, like most college students, they rely on public transit, and that means a longer time jumping between busses and light rail trains. At least Alice really will have time to study this summer, instead of getting distracted by something else like she is prone to. What else is Alice going to do on a commute? One can only scroll through social media for so long.

"Just think of it like this," Bella says with some cheer. "At least you'll be off campus enough that you probably won't risk running into that guy again."

Alice snorts, then titters at herself, and Bella joins in. The bruise to her leg and to her pride is quickly forgotten.

* * *

**(Gmail)**

To: Bella Swan  
From: Heidi H.

Hello Ms. Swan,

First, on behalf of Volturi Inc., I would like to congratulate you on winning the 2020 Video Contest hosted by the Dawn of Warcraft Official Forum. Myself and my associates were impressed by your video.

As you know, part of the prize is the sale of your video concept to Volturi for future use - however, as the winner, you have access to the grand prize. Given the quality of your video, we are prepared to offer you several packages of your choice.

Please look over the attached document and get back to me with the prize package you prefer.

Happy gaming,

Heidi  
Vice President of Marketing  
Volturi Incorporated

* * *

Bella is both relieved and gratified to find Master Culler already online when she logs in. It isn't one of their training days or a day where they have a set time to meet, so she thinks the fact that they are both online at the same time is an excellent sign - they both love the game so much that every spare moment is spent there, even so late in the night when they should both probably be sleeping.

At times like this, Bella considers that it would be convenient to have Master Culler's contact information so that she wouldn't have to wait for him to pop up online - but, she isn't bold enough to ask and he hasn't offered. This is fine. They're only gaming friends. She doesn't have Janeway's number; she doesn't need Master Culler's, either.

Bella pulls up their private chat dialogue without bothering to transport Swansong to Master Culler's area of the map. She quickly relates to him the good news of Volturi, the makers of Dawn of Warcraft, contacting her about the prize from the contest. When she explains the prize packages - six different tempting combinations - he begins to insist that she pick whatever prize she wants, and to not worry about anyone else.

Bella tries to refuse, because _surely_ Master Culler wants some sort of prize? But Master Culler will not be moved or persuaded.

》**Swansong**: I really feel like we should share the prize

《 **Master Culler**: no need

》**Swansong**: no need?

》**Swansong**: it's not just my video!

《 **Master Culler**: it was your idea though

》**Swansong**: except for the ending!

》**Swansong**: you should take credit for it!

《 **Master Culler**: really, no need

Well. If _he_ won't choose a prize, then Bella will just choose for both of them - and then it can be a surprise later on. She knows which prize draws her eye the most, the one with the two rare tiger monsters and a handful of exceptionally rare equipment. Just enough to share, she thinks.

The private message dings with a new notification, drawing Bella from her fledgling plans.

《 **Master Culler**: I'm Master Culler

《 **Master Culler**: I have enough credit and distinction

Bella's mouth drops open, and then she giggles, incredulous at the sheer _arrogance_ of her friend. Even in jest, which is what she thinks this is meant to be, it's still utterly absurd to be so self-assured. She decides to tease back.

》**Swansong**: and a massive ego lol

《 **Master Culler**: that too

》**Swansong**: so you will share the prize then?

《 **Master Culler**: no

》**Swansong**: D:

》**Swansong**: why not?

《 **Master Culler**: because I want my spouse to have the prize

Bella can feel the heat rise on her cheeks at Master Culler's bluntness and bites her lip. He's obviously still joking with her, continuing their chat with levity, and there is _no_ _reason_ to be flustered at the reminder that they are in-game spouses. It's a simple statement of fact!

All the same, she chews on her lip for a beat longer before she can summon a response, and even then she finds it lackluster.

》**Swansong**: oh

》**Swansong**: well if you're insisting

《 **Master Culler**: I am

》**Swansong**: okay then

》**Swansong**: I still think you should take the prize that you earned

》**Swansong**: but I see I can't talk you out of it

《 **Master Culler**: you can't

》**Swansong**: you're very stubborn

《 **Master Culler**: I can be

《 **Master Culler**: I have to be sometimes

Sensing the change in his mood, even online, Bella's awkwardness dissipates. It's a somewhat rare thing that Master Culler should leave an opening like that - of the two of them, she is definitely more prone to keeping a chat going. That Master Culler has made that last deliberate response says something to Bella. He has something on his mind, she just knows it.

》**Swansong**: any reason in particular lately?

《 **Master Culler**: let's just say some people need more convincing than others

》**Swansong**: that sounds ominous

Which is a _total_ understatement. Some people needing _convincing_ sounds like something the Godfather would say and is, by Master Culler's standards, almost unbelievably dramatic.

《 **Master Culler**: it isn't meant to be, but I suppose it is

》**Swansong**: is it your business?

》**Swansong**: or should I not be asking?

《 **Master Culler**: I don't mind telling you

《 **Master Culler**: there are issues with investors caused by a third party

《 **Master Culler**: resolving it is challenging

》**Swansong**: oh no

》**Swansong**: is your business in trouble?

《 **Master Culler**: hardly

《 **Master Culler**: this is annoying, not impossible

Bella stifles a smile. It figures that Master Culler would be as confident in all other aspects of life as he is confident in the game. It's not even remotely surprising - but it does make her wonder, just for a flicker of a moment, what Master Culler is like in real life. How does he _really_ handle himself?

She's curious about it. Just a little.

》**Swansong**: it's good that you have it handled

《 **Master Culler**: naturally

》**Swansong**: lol

》**Swansong**: there's that ego again

《 **Master Culler**: yes, I can't seem to get rid of it

》**Swansong**: I don't think you're even trying to! lol

《 **Master Culler**: is there any point?

《 **Master Culler**: ego can be useful

_Maybe_, she concedes silently. Being confident one's abilities can be useful, but she isn't sure that having an _ego_ about it is the same. Or maybe it is? Her own ego being wounded by that awful video certainly inspired some new action from her. Is it the same for Master Culler? She thinks it probably is - her friend has a lot of pride, it seems. Though, unlike Relentless, he doesn't seem to let it get to his head.

Master Culler might have an ego, but it's a tempered ego.

》**Swansong**: how pragmatic of you

《 **Master Culler**: practical

》**Swansong**: is there a difference?

《 **Master Culler**: I guess not

《 **Master Culler**: :)

》**Swansong**: is that an EMOJI?

《 **Master Culler**: my hand slipped

Bella bursts out laughing, and doesn't stop for long enough that Alice, on the other side of the dorm, is roused from her sleep. And the next morning, Alice proves to be remarkably shameless in teasing her about _how close you and your husband are_, seemingly able to easily ignore the way Bella flusters and blusters.

"He's my friend!" Bella says again and again.

"Yeah, honey, I know," Alice says, patting her arm. "I blush when I talk to all my friends, too."

"Just friends!" Bella insists.

Alice simply smiles and nods, and Bella knows that Alice doesn't believe her one bit. But it's true! She and Master Culler _are_ just friends - gaming friends who are close and who happen to share the same sense of humor and the same interests. That's what friends _are_ and there's nothing suspect about it, at all.

Master Culler is her friend - and that's the end of it.

* * *

Lee Lee  
Okay so something really weird happened  
Maybe not weird  
Just  
Idk

Bell Bell

Did you catch mom and dad…

Lee Lee  
GROSS NO I DIDN'T

Bell Bell  
Then whatever happened cant be that weird

Lee Lee  
THAT ISN'T A GREAT MEASUREMENT  
LIKE ONE IS WEIRD AND ONE IS SCARRING

Bell Bell  
Okay drama queen  
So what is it?

Lee Lee  
I was at the res today right  
And out of nowhere Old Quill pulls me aside  
And he's like, I heard you did that march

Bell Bell  
What, on Indigenous People's Day?  
Last year?

Lee Lee  
Right? Like who told him?  
But that's not the weird part

Bell Bell  
How is that not the weird part?!

Lee Lee  
So Old Quill is all, it's great to see activism  
And he's like, why in my youth blah blah blahApparently Old Quil was kind of a badass  
Did you know he got arrested at a protest?

Bell Bell  
Old Quill, as in the nicest elder in the world?  
Are you kidding?

Lee Lee  
It's true!  
He tells me this story about his activism  
way back in the 70s at Ft. Lawton  
And then he's like, I'm so glad activism lives on in you

Bell Bell  
Cool lol  
Okay and then?

Lee Lee  
AND THEN he's like, I heard you make videos

Bell Bell  
Old Quill is really up on the gossip huh

Lee Lee  
Right?  
So then he's all, why don't you  
use your activism here  
And obviously I'm like, well I have already

Bell Bell  
Yeah you organized those care  
packages for Standing Rock  
And then with immersion program here

Lee Lee  
See, I tell him this, but Old Quill doesn't care  
He's like, so I got into contact with VMM for you  
APPARENTLY Old Quill thinks I should make a video  
about La Push  
Like  
An actual documentary about the res  
For freakin' PBS

Bell Bell  
Wait what

Lee Lee  
He's already contacted the people at VMM  
They're waiting for me to submit SOMETHING  
Idk what though!

Bell Bell  
Old Quill why?

Lee Lee  
That's what I want to know!

Bell Bell  
But I guess it's a good thing  
You did want to make movies

Lee Lee  
Yeah but not this soon!

Bell Bell  
You can always say no

Lee Lee  
After Old Quill went through all that trouble?  
Yeah, not even I'm that bad lol  
I guess I'll call VMM back and, like, talk to them  
About making a film  
Which is so weird

Bell Bell  
I think it's great!  
:)

Lee Lee  
Yeah yeah

* * *

The night before the final match-up in the NorCal server, Bella is running Swansong through the completion of her daily quests when she gets a private message from Master Culler. Apparently one of his friends - Pestulant, Bella would bet - has been trolling the forum for the grand reveal of all the finalists on all the servers and had immediately reported who Master Culler and Swansong would be up against the following evening. Bella is amused - and a bit chagrined - that the other finalists are Nash and Valkner. They're good players and they deserve to be there, of course, but it is a little ironic that the other finalists are the same players they went against in the qualifiers.

When she says as much to Master Culler, he says that he expected nothing else. For Bella, she takes that to mean that he'd done the master strategist thing and watched all narrowed down the most likely winners from the rest of the herd. She wouldn't be surprised to find out that is exactly the case.

Master Culler is _exactly_ that type of player. She thinks it's thrilling, almost as thrilling as the reality that they _really_ made it to the final round for their server. She almost can't contain herself, wiggling in thinly-restrained glee. All that hard work, all that strategizing, and they _made it_.

》**Swansong**: I'm so excited!

》**Swansong**: do you think we'll win?

《 **Master Culler**: obviously

Bella rolls her eyes at his response. What must it be like to walk through life _that_ confident every day? She can't imagine. She's confident herself, but it's a humbled confidence - she knows and trusts in herself, and that's enough. Master Culler is on another level, always skirting the line of being over-arrogant. But it's charming, in a way.

》**Swansong**: don't be too cocky

《 **Master Culler**: I'm not

《 **Master Culler**: it's a fair assessment, don't you think?

》**Swansong**: Nash and Valkner know how we play

》**Swansong**: beating them once doesn't mean beating them always

《 **Master Culler**: they won't be able to keep up

Her brows rise at his insistence. After all, Nash and Valkner made it into the finals, too - but Master Culler doesn't think they'll be able to keep up? Even if they beat Nash and Valkner in the qualifiers, it stands to reason that their opponents would have improved over the last few weeks. Right? Except Master Culler seems to disagree.

Bella will remain more cautious for now. Experience says to never underestimate an opponent, because anyone can come up with a surprise or a new tactic. And in duels, all it takes is one clever second to get the upper hand.

》**Swansong**: you act like we already have it in the bag

《 **Master Culler**: you're my partner

《 **Master Culler**: of course we'll win

Bella's cheeks warm with a furious blush, her heart somersaulting in her chest. Her pulse flutters with something like embarrassment, maybe. Master Culler can really lay on the flattery when he feels like it - and she doesn't know what to do with it, not that he even gives her a chance this time.

《 **Master Culler**: I have to take a call

《 **Master Culler**: but I'll meet you at 7.45 tomorrow to prepare

Master Culler logs off before she can reply, but she still sends her last message. It'll be waiting for him the next time he logs on.

》**Swansong**: see you then :)

* * *

**[Twitter]**

_Trending Hashtags_

#cancelcancelculture

#anxietyislike

#DOWfinals

#ProwlingAtPride

#alwaysdrivesafe

#PaloAltoPileup

* * *

Swansong loiters just outside the Arena at 7:45, just as she and Master Culler agreed. Lots of other avatars are eking through the entrance, gamers who have bought tickets to see the final match for the NorCal server. Swansong is standing beneath a big cypress tree, so she isn't sure how many people see her - but she knows she is visible enough that Master Culler can easily find her and her jewel-toned armor easily enough.

The clock ticks over to 7:50 and Bella starts growing a little concerned. Master Culler is never late - not to a singled planned meeting or training session. He's online as much as she is, if not more. And he is always, _always_ early, which is another thing they share in common.

Where can he be? Held up by his business? Yes, that's probably it. She shoots him a quick message anyway, even after she sees that he's not online.

By 7:55, Bella is worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, straining her skin white as she searches for Master Culler's avatar futilely - futile, because she can clearly see that he's not online, and because none of his friends are online either. Pythagoras, Pestulant, and Hermit are all absent, and when she sends each of them a message inquiring about Master Cullen, she is met with deadened silence.

7:58

7:59

The public chat is already _screaming_. This is a big deal - Master Culler hasn't shown up to the finals, but Swansong is standing outside the Arena, obviously waiting. There's a lot of speculation that makes her stomach twist, most of it overdramatic. Did Swansong and Master Culler have a fight? Is this going to be _another_ fight in the tournament where a team is going to forfeit, like Relentless and Queen V? Players are getting angry, because they paid money to see this final match and it looks like there won't be a match at all.

It's 8, the official starting time for the match, and Bella swallows heavily. She is deeply and profoundly nervous. All of her messages are unanswered; Master Culler is still offline; and she has only three minutes to get into the Arena before there is an automatic forfeit.

"What do I do?" she murmurs, teeth scraping over her bottom lip. "What should I do?"

_What would Master Culler do_?

8:01

Well. Master Culler isn't here - but if he was, she thinks he wouldn't let their hard work go to waste. It has her stomach churning with unease, but she still walks Swansong into the Arena, not willing to let these players waste their money, but more so not willing to let Master Culler down.

8:02

Maybe he'll show up.

She takes a deep breath and closes out the public chat, unwilling to see what everyone is saying as Swansong steps onto the platform. Alone. Without her partner. Against two of the best players on the server.

8:03

Bella knows she's good - as a player, she is skilled, with an action-per-minute rate that rivals any decent professional gamer. Playing alongside Master Culler, who is just as good and who packs a tactical punch punctuated by sophisticated equipment, they are a formidable pair. But playing alone, against Valkner and Nash, who have both spent the last month streamlining their skills and their fledgling partnership?

Bella is good, but she is no match for two players of equal caliber. Maybe one she could handle head-on, but two? No. It's not possible.

Swansong enters the Arena, but not with the intention of winning. She'll put up a fight for as long as she can, hopefully dole out enough damage to stand up to her own reputation, but she will lose. She enters the Arena knowing she will lose.

She doesn't mind the losing.

She minds not knowing where Master Culler is.

At least Valkner and Nash give her mercy, making the battle quick and almost painless to her pride. Bella stares at the screen when it's over, while Swansong is respawning at her set point, and feels tears burning at the back of her eyes.

Where is Master Culler?

* * *

**[Twitter]**

Palo Alto Online **ʘ****paloaltoweekly  
**Recent Stanford grad involved in late night pile-up. The four-way crash involved a driver with DUI history - all people involved have been admitted to Stanford Medicine. Follow for updates on this story.

JV ʘnotmyname  
I heard it was some famous guy

Lu Ellen ʘlululolly  
That's awful. But a donut truck was involved so free donuts lol

Damn Damon ʘdamonclark  
What famous guy ʘnotmyname

JV ʘnotmyname  
A recent grad that was famous on campus

Ironia ʘirinatheirionic  
ʘnotmyname It wasn't Masen Cullen right? It doesn't say in the article

JV ʘnotmyname  
Cullen sounds right. My cousin works in the ER there and said one of the doctors was trying to treat his bro - both named Cullen

Ironia ʘirinatheironic  
Holy crap! ʘdenaliprincess Are you seeing this?

Alice Bee ʘ**aliceseesyou  
****ʘ****thelittlecygnet** Isn't this awful news?

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**I hope he's okay

* * *

After the first day, Bella assumes that something came up with Master Culler's company. She knows it's a start-up and, knowing what she does about the pace of the computer industry, she figures that his business must require all of his attention. It's unfortunate that it means he missed the final, and that they lost their chance to be the champions of the NorCal server who would move on to the inter-server competition, but she can accept it. What is important to her friend is important to her.

On the second day, Bella is momentarily distracted by other troubling news. Apparently Masen Cullen, who she idolizes for his intellect and the lust-worthy software he's developed for independent download, has been involved in a pretty serious car accident. Alice is the one who finds the story and links it to her on Twitter, and as Bella reads what little journalists know, she is struck by a sense of abstract distress. No matter how much she appreciates Masen Cullen - and is still bamboozled over his winking at her only a few short weeks ago - she doesn't really know him. She can't summon the same kind of sadness over Masen Cullen's accident as she can about Master Culler's sudden disappearance; Masen Cullen is an iconic stranger, while Master Culler is her close friend. She follows the story for any updates, mostly out of loyalty for the great potential of Masen Cullen's future software. The article is terribly vague, anyway. The only details include a late-night accident, a drunk driver (not Masen Cullen), and a donut truck that was somehow the catalyst of the whole miniature pile-up.

She sees the tagged feeds of locals who went down in the early morning to take pictures of scattered donuts at the scene of the accident and her immediate feeling of disgust is the most emotion she can feel about the story.

By the third day, though, a true sense of bone-deep worry begins to penetrate. Master Culler is still missing - and none of his friends are answering her messages. They haven't been online, either, which she knows because she's had her laptop set to a split-screen for the last 72 hours, continually logged onto her Swansong account, monitoring for any activity. And the times when she isn't online because she's in class - distracted though she may be - she has Janeway doing the same thing.

But Master Culler and his quasi-clan are nowhere to be found.

Naturally, because people are people even if they're stuck in virtual reality, there is a lot of drama surrounding the whole thing. While most are glad that at least they got to see Swansong battling two high-class players one-on-one, meaning their ticket price was worth the beat-down she took, many of those same gamers are looking at Swansong for an explanation she doesn't know how to give. She can't really say anything, because she's as in the dark as they are, but there is no way she's going to throw Master Culler under the bus.

So she says nothing, and she lets them speculate. Because of her tarnished reputation left in the wake of the drama with Relentless - and recently Queen V and Cherry Lane - a lot of gamers are putting the fault on Swansong. In fact, they say that Swansong is shameless enough to participate after alienating her own partner, and that she deserved to lose - just like she deserves the repeated kicks they give her. All those rumors about Swansong being a male player in disguise come back with a vengeance.

And Bella can't bring herself to care at all.

Master Culler, someone who was quickly becoming a best friend, has suddenly disappeared - and she has no idea why or how to get into contact with him. Is he okay? Is he safe? Is he hurt? Where did he go? Why didn't he leave a message?

Is he coming back?

The anxiety of it all coils around her, tight like a serpent and unwilling to let go. Her voracious appetite suffers quite a bit and so does her sleep. By day four, she has lost color in her face and dark circles have begun to form under her eyes. She eats mechanically under Alice's worried gaze, not really tasting the food and not eating nearly as much as she usually does. She goes to class because she hasn't lost it completely, and she pays attention, takes notes, participates in discussions. She studies. She showers. She does her assignments.

But all the while, she always has one eye on her laptop, waiting for Master Culler to come back online.

Alice doesn't seem to take any of this well. She frets and hovers, prying the issue out of Bella one word at a time, and shares Bella's worries as best she can. But by day seven, Alice has reached some sort of limit she has set, and she starts to get firm with Bella.

"Enough of this wallowing," Alice says, storming into the dorm room like a tiny hurricane. She points at Bella, shaking her finger. "Now, you listen here, missy! You need wake up and keep it together! You are Bella Marie Swan and you are a strong, glorious little lady! So you're going to get up and get this room into Leah standards of cleanliness, and then you're gonna shower and put somethin' happy on, and then we're gonna go for waffles because waffles make everything better!"

Bella, curled up on her bed, blinks at Alice. And then she frowns when Alice marches her tiny feet forward and snaps the lid of Bella's laptop closed, even going so far as to hug the computer to her chest. It takes a beat for it to sink in the Alice is actually confiscating her laptop, like a last-ditch attempt to knock some normalcy into Bella's head.

And it works, kind of, because at least then it really sinks in what Alice has just said. Bella's eyes shift to the room and - yes, she has let the dorm go, a little bit. Not that Bella will ever be truly messy, but the trash can is full and a pair of socks haven't quite made it to the hamper, and for Bella, that is surely a sign that something is wrong.

Something is wrong, though.

Master Culler is missing. Gone. Disappeared. For an entire week.

Bella's eyes water and before she knows it she is sobbing, and Alice is hugging her, murmuring comforting words to her. "It's alright, honey," Alice soothes. "Let it out. It's okay to be sad for your friend. You're okay. Shh…"

Bella cries harder at that - because it's not just sadness. There is confusion too, the likes of which she hasn't felt since high school. She's sad, but then she's also confused as to why she's so sad, and that makes her sadder! It's like this terrible, awful, Alice in Wonderland nonsense loop and Bella is swiftly sinking down a rabbit hole she doesn't know she can crawl out of because - because -

Because she doesn't think this is the kind of sadness she would feel for just a friend. Even a close friend. This is - this is like mourning, in a way, and she isn't even sure why.

_No. No, that's a lie_, she corrects herself, still tucked away into Alice's comforting embrace. Bella knows why she's so sad and worried and confused, even if she's been avoiding the truth of it. She's like this because she likes Master Culler, likes him in a way that she doesn't think she's ever liked anyone - like him in a way she wasn't sure she would ever be able to like someone - and now he is gone somewhere and she doesn't know how to reach him.

Master Culler is gone and she doesn't even know if she can reach him. Because she doesn't know what happened. Because she doesn't know who he is on the other side of that screen. Because something terrible could have happened and she may never know what because she had been so stupidly resolute - so idiotically cowardly - to keep Master Culler as just an in-game friend - when he is so, so much more of that, in her heart of hearts.

Bella can only cry harder.

_I hope Master Culler is okay. I hope he's okay._

* * *

**A/N: *whistles and walks away***

**In other news, I played Blackpink's "Don't Know What To Do" on a loop writing the last part of this chapter! #inspiration**

**Also, for those who are paying attention and trying to link plot points together, there were a few important bits for later chapters scattered throughout. Fans of the C-Drama will see the big one, but I've obviously diverged _a lot_ so... For everyone else, I recommend paying attention to the Twitter feeds!  
**

**Notes on this chapter! So, the bits Leah mentioned about Old Quill are all true! Back in the 1970s, there was a huge Native American protest at Fort Lawton up in Washington! From SeattleMag, "In March 1970, Native American protesters attempted to occupy and claim land at the Fort Lawton Army installation (which now sits in Discovery Park in Magnolia) by "right of discovery." They demanded a gathering place for strictly cultural events. The protest eventually led to the establishment of the Daybreak Star Cultural Center at Discovery Park. Opened in 1977, Daybreak is run by the United Indians of All Tribes and is still used as a cultural center, with ceremonial gatherings (including the celebration of Indigenous Peoples' Day last year), an art gallery and a preschool." Additionally, in Seattle, Indigenous People's Day is celebrated alongside Columbus Day, which is a continuation of that activism. For Leah, the VMM is Vision Media Maker, which is an organization that partners for film distribution on PBS. They have an annual fund to create documentaries and other Native media.**

**If you want to learn more about Native American activism and current progress, please read more at Native American Rights Fund. The oppression of Native peoples is still very much alive today - the issues aren't as old as we like to think, the same with Civil Rights. Even as recently as last year, Alaska Natives were fighting for their rights, and of course the Standing Rock protests over the sovereignty of Native lands.  
**

**Anyway! **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, stay inside - and for the love of it all, _do not listen to governments trying to open economies this early_. **

**~Rae**


	27. chapter 14

[CW: hospitalization]

**[chapter_14]**

"That went rather well," Alistair comments under his breath as they leave the restaurant. He is in an uncharacteristically jovial mood, which for Alistair means he isn't outright scowling at the sight of other people. Like Masen, Alistair is dressed in a casual pressed button-down and slim-fitting slacks, the exact kind of attire appropriate for late-night dinners with investors, relaxed but still right for business meetings.

But while Alistair is satisfied that they had won their investors back from the blatant poaching of Denali Corp - a campaign they started when it became clear that Midnight Sun would not be signing an exclusivity contract _or_ selling their intellectual property - Masen is still working on packing away the full scope of his annoyance. He'd like to blame the investors for being weak-willed, but that would be like blaming a dog for eating a steak rather than waiting for the promise of a steak. The _real_ blame lies in Denali Corp, specifically Eleazar Denali's refusal to accept the reality that he cannot _buy_ whatever he wants.

Fortunately, Eleazar Denali comes from the same class of businessman as Grandfather Cullen, and Masen is well-versed in how to deal with that type of dealing. Investors flock to the greatest promise of return on the investment - all Masen had to prove was that, despite all of Denali's supposed guarantees, the stock and sales of the company aren't up to par. And after that, it was a simple matter of illustrating the great promise of Midnight Sun. Between that cool logic and the impression of Alistair - a well-connected member of the upper crusts of British society - the investors were only a handful of drinks and pretty words before they were back in Midnight Sun's pockets. All according to plan.

Well. Mostly according to plan. Masen, for the sake of toasting the deal with the investors, had not been able to side-step a shared drink. He doesn't enjoy alcohol, associates it with angry rants and smashed glasses and an acrid sting on his cheek, but he will partake on occasion when he has to. Tonight, it had been unavoidable, because meetings like this are always sealed with indulgence, a celebration. It's simply the way of business, unfortunately. One day, he will be in a position where he can bypass these business customs without angering anyone - but for now, a finger of scotch is a small bargain for the money he needs to launch his business. And better that it's him drinking than Alistair, who has absolutely zero alcohol tolerance.

"Think they'll stray again?" Alistair asks as they round the back of the building for the parking lot.

"No," Masen answers simply. This time, he is more than certain of the investor's commitment. Casting even a shred of doubt on Denali's reputation was more than enough to win them back - after all, Masen deals in the straightforward light, while Denali has a tendency to work from the shadows. Between the two, Masen comes off as more trustworthy. He's not above using that to his advantage.

"Well, that's good, because this night has been a right nightmare," Alistair gripes. "You Americans are so loud."

"Mm." Masen doesn't disagree. The investors hadn't held back in their drinking at all, and a few of them are Emmett levels of boisterous, so he understands Alistair's plight. But he couldn't have brought either Emmett or Peter, because while Emmett is the CFO, he is also entirely too friendly to get this type of business done. Alistair was the obvious choice because he can stay on-task in distracting environments, and together Masen and Alistair make a focused, formidable pair that belies their age, which is perfect for impressing investors.

In the parking lot, Masen pulls out the keys of their newly-leased company car, and tosses them to Alistair, who fumbles the catch and then makes a face. "Oi…"

"I drank, you drive," Masen says.

"One bloody sip," Alistair bitches, but he gets into the driver's seat anyway. Of all of them, Alistair is the least comfortable driving, mostly because he grew up driving on the opposite side of the road, but he's also a more safe driver than any of them. Even Masen has a tendency to speed, when he does get the chance to drive.

Masen doesn't say anything on the drive back to their building, running over the entire meeting from the start again, making sure he hasn't missed any important details. He hasn't. The meeting had gone well, the investors are fully hooked again, and he can turn his attention back to the launch - and other aspirations.

They are halfway home when it happens.

He doesn't see it coming - doesn't know how it happened, doesn't see _why_ or _where_ \- but one moment Alistair is driving them home, and the next there is a flare of bright headlights - and distinct red tail lights - that seems to come from all directions.

Alistair slams on the breaks, and instinctively swerves away from the lights - but there is a bigger, larger obstacle there, and they are going fast enough that the impact would be worse - so Masen lunges for the wheel, jerking it in the opposite direction, back toward the red, away from the white, and -

The impact is jarring, a quick-snap, a crack of his head, a smash of glass. There is the crunching screech of metal, the roar of engines sputtering, the sound of panicked shouting. Gasoline in the air, and a smell of burning, and something sweet that he can't place.

Everything spins, a sensory overload, until it stops.

Blackness. Silence. Warmth on one side of his body. Then nothing at all.

* * *

**Turing Is Our Hero (Group Chat)**

Peter Panda

Are you guys done yet

Its been forever

Come home

Em Likes Pi

You're only saying that bc

you're hungry

And you want them to bring you

something back

Peter Panda

Well fucking excuse me

Would it kill anyone to bring me

onion rings?

No it would not

Em Likes Pi

Go get your own you lazy asshole

Peter Panda

And what would you know about

the state of my asshole?

Em Likes Pi

Too much dude

I saw the bleach

I know things now

Peter Panda

Wtf

No you don't

You don't know shit

Em Likes Pi

Man if only that were true

Because like

How to delete myself?

Peter Panda

This is an invasion of privacy!

My privacy has been INVADED

Em Likes Pi

Then don't leave you shit out

on the goddamn counter!

Peter Panda

Its in the bathroom!

Em Likes Pi

Yeah NOW it's in the bathroom!

Before that it was on the laundry counter!

Peter Panda

You don't know that!

Em Likes Pi

I don't know what my own eyes see?!

Peter Panda

YES

Em Likes Pi

Whatever goob

* * *

.

.

.

Loud. High-pitched, sonorous, ringing. _Whiiiir-wooo. Whiiir-wooo._ Too loud.

.

.

.

Is that shouting? _Masen. Masen!_ Shouting for him? Why is someone shouting for him? He's right here.

.

.

.

Sharp, astringent smell. He knows this scent. He hates it, associates it with sad things. Wants it to go away. It doesn't. It gets stronger, tagged with copper and plastic.

.

.

.

.

* * *

**Turing Is Our Hero (Group Chat)**

Squidward

Come to the hospital

Em Likes Pi

What

Peter Panda

Haha very funny

You forgot the first half of the joke tho

Squidward

Come to Stan Med

There's been an accident

Peter Panda

Are you okay?

What happened?

Em Likes Pi

Where's Masen?

Al

Where's Masen

Squidward

Surgery

* * *

.

.

.

Masen feels like he's floating, totally outside of his body, as if his head is attached to nothing. As if he doesn't even have a head, really. There is no pain, but he is cold - in a remote way. Maybe he isn't cold. Maybe it's just lack of sensation. He doesn't really know.

He's tired, wants to sleep. So he does.

.

.

.

"Dr. Cullen! You can't be here - you can't treat him!"

"This is my brother! I should - I should be the one to-"

"Carlisle…You know you can't…You're not allowed to. It's against hospital policy. You _know_ that."

"He's my brother…"

"I know. I know, and he's in good hands, I promise. I'm going to take care of him, okay? I'm going to take good care of him."

"…"

"Go rest. I'll come find you when I have an update."

.

.

.

It's warmer now. That's good. He likes the warmth because it's better than the cold. His body feels less remote, but somehow still disconnected. There is some kind of pressure, he thinks, on his hands and his head.

His nose feels strange. Blocked, somehow. He doesn't like it, but he can't seem to do anything about it.

.

.

.

"It came out of nowhere," a trembling, low-toned voice says. "The intersection was clear and the light was green, so I kept going - but then that car came tearing through, and the truck stopped mid-turn and then -"

A choked-off gasp, like a muffled cry.

"Hey, man. It's okay. You don't have to-"

"But I do! I do, because I should be the one in that damn bed!"

"Al," someone cautions. "That's not something you get to decide."

A scoff, awful and angry. "Oh, it's not something I get to decide, is it? Because _he's_ already decided it!"

A pause, and then a halting voice, barely pitched higher than the other two. "What do you mean?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you!" says the first voice, ripe with frustration. "We were driving, and when it got all arsed, we should have hit that damned drunk head-on - except Masen - he - he took the wheel and steered us into that truck instead, even though it meant his side was getting the worst impact! He - he saved me -!"

The sound of crying, a scream muffled into hands or a shoulder, a beat of a fist against flesh and wall. This goes on for some time, a terrible tantrum, a muted fit thrown in near-silence, a sniffling nose and shushing voices.

"He saved me," the first voice says again after a long, long time. "At the expense of himself, he saved _me_. That's…if I never thought Masen Cullen is a better man than any of us, I stand corrected. He's…"

"He's Masen," another voice says firmly. "He'll pull through this. He's strong."

"A mind like his…" The voice trails off, then returns more firmly. "Yeah. A mind like that won't be wiped out so easily. You'll see, Al. He'll wake up soon and you can cry all over him again."

"I should pledge my life to him," the first voice says suddenly. "I owe him a debt that can never be repaid. I should pledge my entire life to -"

"Uh…You know, maybe nothing so drastic?"

"Yeah. Like, a card can basically do the same thing, right?"

"I saw some in the gift shop."

"Great idea. Let's go to the gift shop and get Masen a card. I bet they have really ridiculous ones that will make him make that _face_, you know the one? Where he's bitching internally, but won't actually say it out loud?"

"One of his best faces!"

"I shouldn't…I should stay. He shouldn't be alone."

A snort, almost amused. "What are you, his wife? He already has one of those, he doesn't need another. He'll be fine if we leave for a bit. Besides, didn't that doctor want to put a cast on your arm?"

"Oh…I suppose…"

"Come on, Al. Let's get some air. Masen will be there when we get back - and he's going to be fine, just wait."

.

.

.

.

"What is the prognosis, Dr. Russo?"

"You know you can call me Renata, Carlisle. We're friends."

A heavy sigh. "Right now, you're the physician who treated my brother, so I need you to be Dr. Russo."

"Alright." A pause, then a low tap, like a fingernail against glass, a familiar sound. "Here, this is his chart. As you can see, when he was brought in, he was already suffering a moderate subdural hematoma -"

"I can see how severe it is, Dr. Russo, you don't have to candycoat it."

"Fine, a _severe_ subdural hematoma. We took him directly into surgery to drain the blood and control the bleed. Our last CT scan showed the bleeding has stopped and his brain is beginning to heal. We also stitched the wounds _here_ and _here_, though I'm afraid this one will leave a scar."

"Masen has never cared about scars. What else?"

"His neck and spine were not injured in the crash, although he does have many bruises and cuts. We had some concerns about his leg, particularly his knee, which was caught beneath the buckling dashboard, but it seems to be okay. We'll have to wait for him to wake up to see if he feels any pain. If he does, he might require some physical therapy…Carlisle?"

"What about brain damage? Masen - he's -"

"We won't know about brain damage until he wakes up. Right now, he has a considerable concussion, but we can see positive signs here. Look at his brain activity. I'm not worried."

"He's going to wake up, then?"

"Yes. He will wake up. Right now, we have him in a medically induced coma to allow the hematoma to heal and oxygen to make sure he's getting an adequate amount of air. We'll be easing him off the IV in the morning." Another pause, this time longer. "We aren't worried about brain damage, Carlisle. Everything looks good. We're just being cautious because it's a brain injury. You know that."

"I know that. I do, but…he's my brother. I taught him how to ride a bicycle and how to tie his shoes…"

"He's going to wake up soon. He's young and healthy. You have nothing to worry about."

"…If it's alright, can I stay here for a while?"

"Of course. Don't fall asleep. Your shift starts soon."

"Thank you, Renata."

"Anytime, Carlisle."

.

.

.

* * *

**Google Search**

About 40,700,000 results (0.51 seconds)

_What to get your bro in the hospital_

Brotastic Bro Gifts Hospital

**What To Get Your Bro in the Hospital**

Got a bro in the hospital? No worries, dude, you don't have to only stick with flowers. Leave the flowers for the ladies, and get your bro one of these gifts instead!

Pillows

Blanket

Puzzles

Books

Hot Nurse Digits

Card

Stuffed Animal

Favorite Shoes

Socks

Basically Anything Other Than Flowers

_Read more at Brotastic..._

* * *

Masen wakes up sore all over, with eyes crusty from sleep blinking up at a glaring white light and a mouth dry and tacky from disuse. He's foggy between the ears, somehow indistinct, like he isn't quite operating on all cylinders. There's a misfire, somewhere.

He doesn't know the lights overhead, or the periodic _beep_, or the sharp, clinical scent in the air. Well, no, that's not right. He doesn't _know_ these things, but he knows what they are, what they signify, what they mean.

He's in a hospital.

Why is he in a hospital? Aside from feeling like he got ran over by a truck?

A truck. Truck. That's familiar. Why is that familiar?

Oh. He hadn't been run over, but there _had_ been a donut truck involved.

Masen blinks at the lights, feels the scratch of cheap cotton against his skin, the cold in the air, the pressure around one finger, the way the back of his hand is so tender. He's been hospitalized after that accident. He must not be in too bad condition if he's waking up, and certainly not if he's waking up with only a vague sense of displacement. He does have a somewhat wobbly feeling in his stomach, likely a reaction from a medication. From what he knows from Carlisle's impassioned ramblings, Masen takes all this to mean that he's probably been admitted for treatment and is now working off the medication in his system.

He's fine. Or he _will_ be fine very soon.

He's very thirsty, though.

Masen turns his head, searching for a cup to drink from or a button to press to request water, and finds a somewhat odd collection of people piled on and around the burgundy vinyl couch set beneath the narrow window on the far side of the room. He easily recognizes Anne and Thomas Cullen, who are huddled together with wan faces, but it is his roommates that truly throw him - Alistair in particular looks completely out of sorts, sporting a wide purple bruise along one side of his face and a brilliant red cast on his right arm.

The sound of his shifting on the thin cotton sheets and crinkling paper is enough to wake this small collection of people, because the next moment Anne is bending over him, fussing at his blankets, gingerly touching his hair and his jaw. She's crying, hiccupping something that sounds like relief, but which mostly seems like hysterical crying. Seeking clarity, Masen's eyes shift over to Thomas, who is teary-eyed but seeming to hold strong.

"Water," Masen croaks, still staring at his adoptive father.

Thomas Cullen doesn't have a chance to so much as reach for anything before a cup is being thrust under Masen's nose from the other side of the bed. It's Peter, crying a volley of tears so violent the cup shakes in his grasp. Emmett has reach over him to steady the cup enough so that Masen can actually drink. At the foot of the hospital bed, Alistair looks on, stricken.

That's right. Alistair had been in the car, too. Alistair clearly as a broken arm, but he's still walking around. Masen absorbs the worry painted clearly on these faces, takes in the way Anne is still hovering and crying, and silently reconsiders his first estimation of his wellbeing.

It must have been more serious than he previously assumed, then.

"It's good to see you awake, son," Thomas manages after Masen finishes quenching his thirst. He reels an arm around Anne's waist, pulling her back enough to give Masen room to breathe. "We've been worried."

"Oh, when we got the call -" Anne breaks off. She strokes a hand down Masen's cheek with a tremulous smile. "But you're awake now. I'm so relieved."

Masen furrows his brows. They're all acting as if he's been asleep for days, which surely can't be the case. Because if he was asleep for days, then that means…

Masen clears his throat, trying to work the scratch out. "How long…?"

"Ten days."

"Eleven," Alistair corrects quietly. "It was after midnight when the surgery…It's been eleven days, mate."

Eleven days.

_Eleven days?_

Masen's eyes widen infinitesimally. Eleven days, one-third of a month, is a significant amount of time to lose. Masen had many things planned for the eleven days he's been asleep, and he's missed all of them. Including -

_Swansong_. _Bella Swan_.

Something of his alarm must show on his face, because Anne goes back to fretting over him, asking if he's in any pain. Thomas steps in, gently drawing Anne away with a promise that they would go find his attending, Dr. Russo, and Carlisle, who is working somewhere in the hospital right now.

Masen's eyes, which seem to be the only part of him that doesn't _ache_ in such a keen way, trail after his parents as they leave the room. A private room, he notes in the back of his mind. He waits until the door latches closed before raising his eyes to stare seriously at his closest friends.

"Swansong," he says simply.

Three pairs of eyes widen. They'd forgotten about Bella Swan, that much is obvious. Masen - Master Culler - was supposed to have been fighting in that tournament, but then the accident happened, and it's _more than obvious_ that each of his friends had forgotten to inform Swansong over the last week and a half about it. Which means that Swansong has no idea what happened to Master Culler. Which means, to Swansong, Master Culler and his friends vanished off the face of the _goddamn planet_ without any warning.

"Shit!" Peter exclaims, rather succinctly in Masen's opinion.

"We didn't tell her," Emmett says with a wince. He withers somewhat under the force of Masen's glare, which is muted considering how _off_ Masen feels, but is still plenty powerful enough to cow its victims. "Right. Uh. We probably should have told her? Yeah…"

Alistair, if possible, looks more brittle than before. "We should tell her now."

Peter practically jumps away from the bed, hustling over to a backpack tucked into the corner of the vinyl couch, sniffling away his lingering tears even as he says, "I can fix that! I can fix that with a little backdoor programming - See, just wait, the next time she logs on, we'll be able to tell her…"

Peter, having opened his laptop and evidently logged onto the game with the hospital wifi password, makes an aggrieved expression. He darts a look to Masen, apologetic.

Masen closes his eyes. He can already guess. Knowing Swansong as well as he does by now, he can guess that she would have messaged all of his known acquaintances to gather any news about Master Culler's sudden disappearance. Pestulant has a message on his account - he would wager that Pythagoras and Hermit also have messages waiting to be read as soon as they log on. He probably as more than a few waiting on his account, as well.

Bella. Swansong. _I'm sorry for not showing up_.

"Should I, like…." Peter trails off.

Masen heaves in a cleansing breath and opens his eyes. "Send her a message," he instructs Peter. "Tell her the basics - and that I'll message her as soon as I can."

Because this is something only he can fix. Accident or not, Masen knows what broken trust looks like, and he never wanted to give Bella Swan a reason to doubt him.

He has to make up for it.

But he also has to get out of the hospital first, and _that_ proves to be something more involved than he anticipates.

Apparently, Masen had cracked his head hard enough in the crash that he had a serious brain bleed on top of a concussion, which had involved surgery and a concern about brain damage. He meets Dr. Renata Russo, evidently a good friend of Carlisle's in the same residency program, and learns about all the measures that were taken to save his life. It's a lot. His injuries were not insignificant, but he'd gotten lucky - his neck and spine are okay, and he has full motor control so the hit to his head hadn't caused any physical complications. He does have to sit through three individual examinations for cognitive function, but he passes those with flying colors.

When Carlisle gets off shift, he hugs Masen for countless minutes. If Carlisle cries into Masen's shoulder, then neither of them say anything about it.

He's still kept in the hospital for another two days, being monitored for observation just in case his condition takes a spontaneous nose-dive. He spends those two days with a new coil of anxiety, a tension that barely eases off when Peter reports that Swansong is waiting for Master Culler to contact her personally.

Masen, for the first time in a long time, is impatient. He doesn't want to be in the hospital. He wants to _go_ and _fix things_ and - and -

Well. He knows what he wants. What does Swansong want?

There are thankfully other things to occupy his attention. He learns that during the eleven days he'd been in a medically induced coma that Pagan Immortals launched with great success. In fact, the first sales of Pagan Immortals at the app stores had exceeded expectations. The investors Masen carefully won back are beyond satisfied; he imagines that Denali Corp is seething, especially since the launch of the mobile game came out of the blue, to them. Masen listens attentively as Emmett - somewhat reluctantly - reads out the sales reports and as Peter brags that their servers are running at full capacity.

Midnight Sun has successfully launched their first game and people are paying attention. Masen opens his email to a swath of messages from reporters, all who want to know what's next for Midnight Sun - he has an equal amount of emails from more interested parties, those who want to partner and promote and create with Midnight Sun's creative, youthful team. Masen replies vaguely to both the reporters and the other interested parties. Everything is going according to plan. After all, Pagan Immortals is not the only mobile game Midnight Sun has in production.

Masen, of course, has higher goals. There's been rumors for over a year about a sequel to a certain game, and he _wants_ that contract more than he wants anything. Well, almost more than he wants anything. Pagan Immortals being received with great critical and commercial review is only step one to the legacy that Masen is starting to weave. An important step, of course, but he's always had big dreams.

He tucks his quiet satisfaction with Pagan Immortals away, keeping it safe so he can enjoy its taste again and again. One success is not enough; he knew it wouldn't be, because it never is.

The pieces are all falling into place. One at a time, just the way they should, all just like he planned.

By the time he is released from the hospital, Masen is metaphorically chomping at the bit to get home and get to his computer - get to Swansong. Alistair elects to bring him back to their building, riding in an Uber since their new company car is currently totaled, although Emmett is evidently sorting that mess out with their insurance.

Alistair is quiet - more quiet than normal - on the ride home. Although Masen is bruised, bandaged with new stitches pulling at his hairline and cuts glancing across his cheek from broken glass, Alistair is somehow the one who looks worse between the two of them. Already pallid, dark shadows have formed beneath his eyes, and the vibrant red shade of his cast is somehow jarring. He looks guilty, like a dog waiting to be kicked.

Masen doesn't like it. And since he cares about his friends - in his own way - he sets out to fix Alistair before he gets swept away in his other plans.

Masen cuts right to the point, because he can guess where Alistair's thoughts are. "It wasn't your fault."

Alistair confirms Masen's suspicions when Alistair's pale eyes turn to him, squinted in some heavy emotion he can't quite name. "I was the one driving," Alistair argues lowly. "I should have-"

"There was a drunk driver," Masen counters mildly, hushed because he knows their Uber driver can hear them. "There was nothing you could have done."

"But I-"

"Either way we would have been hit," Masen continues flatly. "It made more sense for my side to take the brunt of the impact than yours to minimize damage."

"Masen, your life is worth more than just - than _minimizing damage_."

Masen raises a brow, ignoring the dull throb of pain that accompanies the action. "And your life is worth more than _not_ minimizing the damage to mine." He pauses, a frown crossing his face as he considers an angle that Alistair has obviously overlooked. "Alistair. If I had done nothing, don't you think the head-on impact would have killed you?"

Alistair is speechless, because apparently he _had not_ realized this at all. Masen leaves him to this revelation as the Uber pulls up to their building. He climbs out of the car, nudges Alistair, and pays the rideshare. Inside, he walks into a wall of men in their mid-20s, all clapping and cheering at his safe return. He lifts his chin, resists the urge to wince at their shared volume - especially Peter and Emmett - and stares them down as he makes an offhand comment about _glad to be back_ and _let's get back to work_, even as he taps at the keypad for the staircase door. He takes the stairs slowly, one at a time, gripping tightly onto the handrail as his head spins.

He needs to sit down. He'll sit down upstairs, in the privacy and quiet of his own room, away from others where he doesn't have to put on an affable-as-he-can-be face. He'll sit down and rest his eyes and gather some semblance of a coherent thought, and then he'll make the leap he needs to win over Bella Swan.

Somewhere between staggering into his loft and collapsing face-down on his bed, Masen realizes he is very much done with wooing Swansong over virtual reality. There are, of course, several reasons for this - for one, he doesn't even know if his efforts are effective, and for another, he's just come to the awful existential realization that he _doesn't_ have all the time in the world to woo a girl. Accidents happen. He should seize the moment.

Hopefully what he's done up to now has been enough. Standing her up at the tournament notwithstanding - especially as this had been entirely out of his control - Masen _thinks_ he's made some kind of positive impression on Swansong. He's almost positive she sees him as a friend rather than just Master Culler, because why else would she ask for advice and start inane little conversations? Surely those are signs, right?

It might be the concussion talking, but Masen wonders if he should have asked Carlisle for advice.

No.

Rather not risk the opportunity to be teased mercilessly. He'll figure it out on his own.

With that in mind, and with his lingering pain being sufficiently banked for the time-being, Masen draws himself out of bed and shuffles to the desk in his living room. He wakes the laptop up, double-clicks the Dawn of Warcraft icon, and logs into the game. He ignores the mess of the public chat, going directly for the kill as he pulls up his private chat with Swansong.

There are several messages from her, all unanswered, all asking about where he is and if he's okay. They hurt to see, mostly because they give away exactly how distressed Bella Swan was about his disappearance. The messages make his chest ache as he reads them, but he knows that they hurt her more, especially when they were never answered.

Masen sets out to rectify what he can. He's certain, with time, he can make up for this.

《 **Master Culler**: Swansong

What should he say now? How should he phrase it? How does he not sound awkward and stiff? Masen doesn't know. It's a new desire for him, to _want_ to be approachable. He doesn't know how to do it, not in any genuine, uncalculated way, so he opts to be truthful instead.

《 **Master Culler**: I'm deeply sorry about the tournament

《 **Master Culler**: there was an accident

《 **Master Culler**: I've only just gotten back from the hospital

Mollified by his own attempt, clumsy though it may be, Masen sits back and waits. Swansong isn't logged on yet. He has some time.

He sets the volume higher on his computer, then stands up, goes to the kitchen for a glass of water. He desperately wants to take a shower, to get the feel of _car crash_ and _hospital_ off his skin, but he isn't allowed to wash his stitches until tomorrow, which means he can't wash his hair until then, either. He entertains half a thought about changing his clothes, but swiftly puts the idea away when his computer pings with a message notification.

Masen doesn't _run_, because he has a concussion and he isn't allowed to do that for a while, but he does hasten back to his computer.

》**Swansong**: Pestulant told me about the accident

》**Swansong**: I don't care about the tournament, there's always next year

》**Swansong**: are you okay?

_There's always next year_. Masen breathes in deep. Is that a throw-away comment, or does she _really_ mean they should do the tournament next year? Is this Swansong, beautiful Bella Swan, saying that she thinks they will still be allied in a year?

He hopes so, but he's wise enough to know she probably didn't mean it. Not yet, anyway.

《 **Master Culler**: I'm fine

》**Swansong**: Pestulant said there was a surgery?

》**Swansong**: and that you were in a coma?

》**Swansong**: and that they were worried about brain damage?

_Peter_, Masen laments with ire. _How is _that _only telling her the basics? _Masen should have asked Emmett to message Swansong instead - Peter was entirely _too honest_. He can see plain as day that knowing the details only caused Bella Swan _more_ worry.

"I'll just dock his pay," Masen mutters.

《 **Master Culler**: I really am fine

》**Swansong**: I'm relieved to hear that

》**Swansong**: I was getting pretty worried

《 **Master Culler**: I'm sorry for worrying you

《 **Master Culler**: but I know how I can make it up to you

Masen holds his breath, letting the air catch and still in his lungs. Will she take the bait? He doesn't know. He hopes so. This is the perfect opening.

》**Swansong**: you don't need to make it up to me

《 **Master Culler**: I want to

》**Swansong**: okay then

》**Swansong**: I'm all ears

_All or nothing_, Masen thinks, and then he sends the message.

《 **Master Culler**: let me take you out for coffee

》**Swansong**: lol

》**Swansong**: did your account get hacked?

Masen grins sharply at the immediate skepticism. This girl - He doesn't even have the words for how much that quick volley entertains and pleases him.

《 **Master Culler**: no, my account did not get hacked

《 **Master Culler**: I really want to meet you for coffee

Masen waits, fingers tapping the edge of his desk. He can see the ellipses of Swansong type and re-typing a response. She does this for two minutes - he counts - before a reply finally pings on his screen.

》**Swansong**: I'd like that too

Masen _does not_ hiss out a victorious _yes_ or pump his fist, because those things would be undignified and beneath him, but he does relish in Bella Swan's acceptance for more than a few moments. This too will be a feeling he will save to savor later, because he doesn't want to forget it.

Bella Swan - Swansong - agreed to meet with him, in person.

He can't underscore the feeling of _winning_ enough.

* * *

Alice Bee ʘ**aliceseesyou**

What do you do when you think your friend has a date but your friend doesn't think they have a date? #noreally #thatsthesitch

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete**

My best bro definitely has a date that he is definitely not talking about #cantrelate

* * *

"It's not a date," Bella says two days before her summer midterms. She stares at her reflection in the mirror, trying to make an objective opinion, and begins to shimmy out of the white skinny jeans she just spent three painstaking minutes squeezing into. The high-waist denim skirt, just above knee-length, goes much better with the marled, grey _Hufflepuff_ cropped shirt and the new camel-colored mules she just bought.

Alice, watching Bella change one part of her outfit for the third time, looks on with an air of bemusement, chiming in with a helpful bit of fashion advice every now and again. Still, she's fixated on perpetuating this back-and-forth they have going and has even dragged Twitter into the argument, somehow.

"It's not a date," Alice repeats, tone ripe with disbelief. She shakes her head. "How can it not be a date? It has all the criteria of a date - an obvious case of nerves, a promise of coffee and conversation, and even new shoes!"

Bella slips the last button on the denim skirt into its hole and then ruffles her hair. Her eyes skirt away from Alice's pointed stare as she defensively says, "I needed new shoes anyway!"

It's not precisely true. Sure, buying new shoes is a particular kind of pleasure for a lot of girls, but Bella had never gone gaga over the latest trends cooked up online. She had shoes that worked for her, which meant they were utilitarian and versatile. She had _one_ pair of heels, tossed in the back of her closet in Forks, that she hadn't touched since graduation. Spontaneously splurging on a new pair of shoes, no matter how cute or how on-sale, is admittedly suspicious.

Alice seems to agree, because she hops off Leah's bed and circles around where Bella is neatly folding all her clothes, putting them back in their designated places now that she is dressed for the day. "Bella, _you_ dragged _me_ to go shopping," Alice says with feeling. "Not that I mind, you know I _love_ finding a good bargain, but you don't shop for anything unless it's falling apart and needs to be replaced, and yet…"

_And yet you dragged me to go shopping_, Alice seems to say, her eyes widening to solidify her point, trying to get Bella to connect the obvious dots.

"It's not a date," Bella insists.

What's the difference between insistence and denial, anyway? A little nugget of truth?

"Uh huh."

"It's _not_," Bella repeats.

"I believe you!" Alice exclaims, holding her hands up with a laugh. She dances out of the room, light on her bare feet, surely off to prepare for whatever it is she has going on today, leaving Bella blissfully alone so she can face her not-so-blissful truth.

Because, in spite of everything Bella has been saying for the last two days, she is definitely, 100%, without a doubt going on a date.

Because Master Culler definitely, 100%, without a doubt asked her out on a date.

A coffee date. With Master Culler. Today.

Bella doesn't know what she was thinking! Except, _no_, she _does_ know what she was thinking. She was so relieved to have actual contact with Master Culler after over a week of radio silence that she agreed to meet up with him without so much as a second thought. And it's very unlike her, because Bella had silently promised to never meet another player in real life, because Bella had _kept_ that promise even throughout all of the pressure from Relentless - but the second Master Culler even entertained a facsimile of a plan, she had agreed with the kind of thoughtless, immediate enthusiasm that she was embarrassed about for hours afterword.

But can she help it? Is it even really her fault that she wants to see Master Culler with her own eyes and make sure he's okay? He'd disappeared, out of the blue, for over a week, and the first thing she heard about him was through Pestulant, who true to his dramatic nature had painted an _awful_ tragedy of a car accident. Can anyone blame her for agreeing to meet - for agreeing to a date-not-date - the minute Master Culler returned?

No. Bella doesn't think so. _Of course_ she would want to meet him, this guy who she has developed feelings for though virtual reality.

But that doesn't mean she _wants_ the added pressure and attention from Alice and Leah and Rose and, apparently, a significant number of people on Twitter who are now trending _#thatsthesitch_ as the latest meme for clueless millennials. Who knew that Bella's self-denial would go viral like that? Her only salvation is the fact that Alice didn't tag her directly!

Bella breathes in deep, trying to cool her internal waters. She doesn't need to get worked up about anything, _including_ the fact that she would be meeting Master Culler at The Coffee Circuit in less than 3 hours.

Nothing to freak out about here. Everything is fine. Totally, completely fine and not nerve-wracking at all.

She almost believes it.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Thorny

Okay virgins listen up

Paparazzi

Don't include me in this

I don't believe in virginity

Thorny

Sounds like something a virgin

would say

Paparazzi

Sorry, too ace to care

Thorny

Fair point

Okay

Virgins and voyeur listen up

Paparazzi

Acceptable

Go on

Thorny

I in all my wisdom have advice

you may find helpful

Paparazzi

Is wisdom code for serial dating

Thorny

Yes

Also no slut shaming in this house

Paparazzi

:)

Thorny

ANywAy

You virgins should pay attention

I have priceless advice

Hello

Paparazzi

Are they not here?

After all of that?

Thorny

All messages marked unread

Wtf

What are they doing?

Paparazzi

Idk

Class

Internships

The list is endless

Thorny

Oh haha

Whatever

I'll just leave the advice for

the virgins to read later

So, Rule #1 pay for your own shit

Short Cake

Hi!

Let me catch up!

Oh wow!

Who are virgins?

Paparazzi

What

Thorny

What do you mean who are virgins

You are virgins

You being Alice and Bella

Short Cake

Oh

But I'm not

Paparazzi

What

Thorny

You were in May!

Short Cake

So, I might have left out

some things about my vacay

Paparazzi

WHAT

Thorny

Bitch do you SEE the name of this chat

Spill the damn tea!

Short Cake

Lol

* * *

Masen is nervous.

He hasn't ever been someone prone to nerves. Masen Cullen _does not_ get nervous, not about people and not about things. He learned to not be nervous, because being nervous was the first step to being vulnerable. Nerves, he knows, are an open invitation for failure.

And yet he can't quell his nerves - they are there, a livewire snapping for oxygen, and they don't seem to be going anywhere, settling in his stomach and trembling there with anticipation.

Masen is nervous, for perhaps the first time since he was a newly-orphaned child and he was greeting his new parents, not as their god-child but as their son. He hadn't really had much cause to be nervous since, because nerves stem from uncertainty and Masen is never uncertain about anything.

He didn't think he would be uncertain about finally meeting Swansong - finally _talking_ to Bella Swan - in the flesh. What did he have to be uncertain about? This, of course, is arrogance. Masen realizes - abruptly and belatedly - that he is not as prepared as he thought he would be.

Swansong, Bella Swan, Swanning in real life is not the same as in virtual reality. He had seen her from a distance enough times to know that she is softer and brighter in the flesh, and knows well enough that he is not desensitized to it. He has pinned for her, has manufactured this opportunity to finally speak to her, face-to-face, but he is not prepared for it.

This is where the nerves come from - he doesn't want to mess up. He wants to impress her, dazzle her, win her over, but he doesn't know - can't know - if his efforts so far have been enough to woo her. He's never done this before. The idea of a misstep is, in a word, terrifying.

Masen feels alien in his own body, which thrums and flutters and quivers in turns. Where is his steady metronome? Where is his unflappable cool? Gone, blown away by even the mere _notion_ of what can only be a date.

A date with Swansong, Bella Swan, Swanning.

Masen makes the final adjustments to the crisp press of his monochrome geometric button-up, triple-checks the fly on his dark jeans, and scoops up his phone, wallet, and the keys to his parent's house, where he has been tasked with picking up and dropping off something for one of his mom's classes.

He checks the carefully careless coif of his hair, spritzes himself with cologne, and pointedly ignores Peter's chortled heckling as he leaves the building, slipping into an Uber that will take him to his parents house, and then to campus.

Two more hours.

* * *

**Turing Is Our Hero (Group Chat)**

Peter Panda

Everyone saw that right

Everyone saw mase leaving

For a date

With Swansong?

Em Likes Pi

Oh I saw it alright

Was it just me or did he seem

I dunno

Peter Panda

Frazzled?

Shitting himself with nerves?

Smelling like a perfume counter?

Em Likes Pi

I choose D, all of the above

Squidward

Don't you have work to be doing?

Stop blowing up the group chat

Em Likes Pi

You're only saying that

Cause I can see you

And youre playing Solitaire

Not even the good Solitaire

Squidward

Fuck off

Em Likes Pi

You first

Peter Panda

Buddies, not to butt in here

But can we get back to the point

Which is masen

Dating

Swansong

I just

!

Em Likes Pi

If she's smart she'll run away

Squidward

Doubtful

Em Likes Pi

Suck up

Peter Panda

_Mad Hatter_

_Mad Hatter_ I want to be your

best man

I did the most for your relationship

Mad Hatter

Get back to work

Or I'll move up the deadline

Squidward

Now look what you did

Peter Panda

D: D: D:

Em Likes Pi

Do you think he'll be less of

a hardass when he gets laid?

Peter Panda

No

Squidward

No

Mad Hatter

Docking your pay

* * *

_Oceans by Design_ is, admittedly, a somewhat strange course for a computer science joint major to take, but Bella chose the class specifically because she has an interest in marine life, having grown up near the unpolluted beauty of La Push. The fact that she needed a summer course design credit for her graphic design degree and this class happened to have an opening is a happy coincidence. Bella isn't going to complain. Besides, she can see where she can apply computer engineering to helping clear the aquatic ecosystem - hadn't there been a water drone that was programmed to pick plastic out of shorelines? She could conceivably do something like that, so it's not as if the class is a wasted credit.

Of course, it had been a shock to learn that the Professor Cullen who taught the class was actually Masen Cullen's mother. No resemblance, except for the last name. Bella wouldn't have made the connection if Professor Anne Cullen hadn't made a passing comment about her son earlier in the course.

Bella walks into the small lecture hall and bites her tongue against asking her professor if Masen Cullen is okay. Bella had seen the news and has been keeping up with whatever reports are released, but aside from a single sentence suggesting _all individuals involved in the accident have been released from the hospital_, there isn't much to go on.

She can't just casually ask her professor about her son. She _can't_. That would be crazy. Bella needs this class. She _doesn't_ need to badger her professor about her personal life.

So Bella walks into the lecture hall, finds a seat near the front row so she can better see the presentation being set up, and starts to organize her notes and notebook. The midterm test for this class is next week and Bella is determined to be prepared.

She is so busy with her single-minded set up that she completely misses the exchange by the lectern until one of her classmates gets rather unsubtle about the whole thing.

"Is that Masen Cullen?" comes the barely-contained squeal.

A male voice, pitched low in a whispery hiss. "Didn't he graduate?"

"He did," says the first squealer. "He like literally just graduated?"

"What's he doing here?"

A scoff. "Don't you know? His mom is the professor!"

"Still…"

Bella, wide-eyed, looks at the front of the room where Masen Cullen is indeed passing over a stack of binders over to Professor Cullen, who is _actually_ patting his cheek in thanks, careful of the bruises on one side of his face. Masen Cullen lets this happen, offering his mother an upturn of his lips, a smile without artifice.

_Masen Cullen_, she thinks dimly. Well. He certainly looks okay, if not a little battered and bruised. Healthy. Not in a hospital still, which she counts as a very good thing for the future of the technology industry. Among all the other news she had been following about him post-accident was the drop of his start-up's mobile game, Pagan Immortals, which she had wasted exactly zero time downloading.

The game is, of course, excellent. Challenging, innovative, a true top-tier with such _gorgeous_ graphics she almost wants to weep about it every time she plays the game.

Bella regains her equilibrium quickly. It's a surprise to see Masen Cullen, but it's a welcome surprise. How nice that he's doing well after that accident. And he's a dutiful son, too. She wouldn't expect any less.

But aside from the jarring surprise of his dropping texts off to his mom, it's really none of Bella's business where Masen Cullen is or what he's doing. She drops her eyes, goes back to organizing her notes, oblivious to Masen Cullen's lingering stare when she's no longer looking.

She would have remained totally clueless about it, too, if not for her classmates whispering to each other _did he look at me_ and _no he looked at her_ and _her who_ and _who else but Bella Swan_?

Bella fixes her eyes to her desk, fighting the heat on her cheeks as Professor Cullen starts her lecture. Because surely Masen Cullen didn't look at her _again_. Surely not.

And even if he did - well, Bella is going on a date with _Master Culler_ and presently doesn't have any time for anyone else, no matter how brilliant they are.

* * *

The Coffee Circuit ʘcaffeinecircuitry

Coffee, keyboards, first date jitters oh my #weseeyou

_(Picture Attachement: The front of The Coffee Circuit,_ _and right by the signboard is the profile of a girl_ _with freckles and long nutbrown hair, biting her lip_ _as she looks down the street; her complete face_ _is not recognizable except to those with a keen eye.)_

Cardinal Trees ʘcardinaltreesblog

Hey ʘcaffeinecircuitry how fresh is your information?

The Coffee Circuit ʘcaffeinecircuitry

ʘcardinaltreesblog As fresh as our #coldbrew, so fresher than your content

Cardinal Trees ʘcardinaltreesblog

_(Gif Attachment: Monty Python's Black Knight skit,_ _the Black Knight saying "'tis but a scratch")_

* * *

Bella Swan arrives at The Coffee Circuit at the exact time they agreed to meet. She stands outside, fingers curled around one of the straps of her denim backpack, looking at the oncoming sidewalk traffic with a curious, although cautious expression on the lush planes of her face - a remarkable shift from the focused solemnity she broadcasted in the classroom as she organized her notes, seemingly totally oblivious to the way his eyes helplessly tracked back in her direction.

She's expressive. He is not. He likes it anyway.

Swansong, Bella Swan, Swanning is a type of beauty that is not seen often. He notes it all carefully, filing it away in the space in his mind that has been dedicated to learning about this girl who has managed to spin him upside down. She is dressed modestly, because even though her _Hufflepuff_ \- a fitting Hogwarts house, he thinks - shirt is cropped, the high waist of her skirt means that there is barely even an inch of creamy skin visible; the skirt covers her thighs, her sleeves fall to her elbow, and her shoes are sensible. And yet, as Masen looks at her, crossing the street with his hands in his pockets, he can't help but think that she has dressed specifically to seduce him.

It's nonsensical. He knows, between having seen her in person before and from the YouTube videos Peter haphazardly sends him, that this is her normal style of dress. He's fixating on it because of his own nerves. What she wears, what he wears, none of it really matters - but there his mind goes, cataloguing the details, like how she's braided back the sides of her long, cinnamon-hued hair to keep strands out of the wide slants of her olive-green eyes.

She has very long eyelashes, he notes as he walks closer, step by step by step, comforted in the knowledge that she hasn't noticed him. Yet. Again. Is it bad that she doesn't seem to notice him? Or should he take this as a good sign - she doesn't notice him, Masen Cullen, because she is looking for the other him, Master Culler.

_Loyal_, he decides, and then more absently, _Her lips look soft._

Masen stops on the other side of The Coffee Circuit's entrance, the glass and black metal front of the internet café broken by a single open French door, which passes four people through who separate Masen from Bella. Even with a small sea of people between them, Masen can't drop his gaze, not even for a moment, not even as nerves clutch at him unapologetically once more.

So close, but so far. Seeing her in his mom's lecture hall earlier, in another fit of serendipity, had been a reinforcement of this idea. Bella Swan is always just out of reach while maintaining the illusion of being obtainable.

Until now.

What if she reacts badly? He doesn't think she will, but he also doesn't know for sure - he can't know, really, because he doesn't know how she feels, if anything, about Masen Cullen. If he's lucky, maybe she doesn't know about him at all, maybe she only knows him in passing. It's possible.

He doesn't know if he wants that to be true, or not. Never in his life has he been so damn uncertain.

Even still, Masen gathers his courage and his confidence, wiping his palms on the seat of his pants. Swansong, Bella Swan, Swanning is waiting for him, pretty and poised like a still photograph, obviously searching for _someone_ in the passing crowd.

He can't be late and he can't delay any longer.

He doesn't want to disappoint her, not for a second.

* * *

Cardinal Trees ʘcardinaltreesblog

Faithful readers rejoice, because whoa have we got the story for you! Stay tuned for updates about a certain belle and golden boy! #weshipit #wewillgodownwiththisship

* * *

Bella bites her lip, peering at yet another throng of passersby. Only a few of them go into The Coffee Circuit, but none of them spare her a glance and all of them are fellow women. Her lip scrapes across her teeth, just shy of painful as she keeps searching.

She and Master Culler _really_ hadn't planned for this very well, had they? They should have agreed to each wear something to identify themselves with, like a rose or a scarf or _something_. Why didn't they do that? They could have at least told each other what they look like! Instead, Bella is looking at every man that passes as if he's Master Culler, and she's growing more anxious by the second.

What if he doesn't show up? What if he _does_ show up, and he's some old man, or a pervert? She really didn't think this through. She _should_ have thought this through, should have been more cautious about it, but she'd jumped on the first opportunity to meet Master Culler without thinking about it _at all_.

Leah might actually strangle her when she finds out how reckless Bella has been.

Bella releases her lip, resists the urge to rock onto the tips of her toes for a better view of the sidewalk, and fixes her eyes to the opposite side of the street, thinking _maybe_ he'll come from that direction-

"Bella Swan?"

A low, melodious voice calls her name, and Bella turns toward it like a flower to the sun. And then she stops, lungs frozen mid-breath, her mind akin to the sound of a record screeching to a half. Because. Well. That's Masen Cullen, standing just beside the entrance to The Coffee Circuit, one hand in his pocket and something soft in his eyes as he looks at her with an otherwise neutral expression.

Bella blinks at him, turning just slightly in his direction. "Oh. Hi," she says belatedly. She blinks again, a furrow in her brow as she casts a hesitant look around them. They're both alone, it seems, and for some reason Masen Cullen has deigned to talk to _her_, of all the other alone people near the internet café. "Are you…waiting for someone?"

Her hazard guess is met with a faint uptick on one side of his mouth, a wry sort of smile. "Yes," he answers plainly, still staring at her.

"Oh," Bella says again. She looks at what he's wearing, a predominately white button-down shirt with one shoulder covered in black and grey squares, slim-fitting light wash jeans, and classic black high-tops. She's no Alice, but she thinks he looks like someone who is dressed to meet someone.

Bella thinks about the _Hufflepuff_ shirt she put on with pride this morning and feels her cheeks heat. Should she have worn something a little less casual? Would Master Culler care?

Inexplicably, Masen Cullen's wry smile turns into a smirk, and he looks at her with great amusement, most of it banked in the cool steel blue-grey of his eyes. "I'm waiting for you," he says.

"You are?" Bella furrows her brows. "Why would you be…."

Bella stops.

Bella stares, unblinking.

Bella's mind positively _whirs_, and a flush of foolishness rises from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She feels - well, not like an idiot, but very stupid and naïve and outright _blind_ for not seeing it before. Because, laid out, it all looks painfully obvious and even a child might have put it together.

Master Culler. Masen Cullen. Master Culler and Masen Cullen. Master Culler _is_ Masen Cullen. Of course he is - the names are almost the same, for God's sake! Master Culler is a proficient master player; Masen Cullen is a talented student and a rising star in the tech industry. Master Culler started a company right out of college; Masen Cullen has a new start-up after graduation. Master Culler was in an accident; Masen Cullen was in an accident.

If she thinks about it, the parallels are endless, even for someone like her who didn't know all the details of Masen Cullen's life to compare them to the bits of information Master Culler lets slip through their chats.

Masen Cullen and Master Culler are one in the same.

"Oh, my God," she breathes, almost positive that she's gaping at him. "You're Master Culler."

"I am," he answers needlessly.

"Oh, my _God_," she repeats, blinking rapidly.

She's been blind. There's no other explanation for it. Or - well, isn't there? Given all the millions of players on Dawn of Warcraft and the thousands that are on the NorCal server, what are the chances that someone she admires in real life is going to be the _same person_ she admires in virtual reality? Slim. She bets those chances are really, really slim, even with the similarities between the names. After all, it's not like there aren't a dozen variations of _Swansong_ online; she knows for a fact that there are half a dozen other players who fashion names similar to Master Culler's, too.

Can she _really_ be blamed for not realizing it earlier? No.

Does that make it any less embarrassing now? Also no.

Masen Cullen's smirk softens back into that expression of wry amusement. He tilts his head at the open door of the internet café and asks, "Can I buy you a cup?"

"Sure. That's why we're here…" Bella says faintly, unthinkingly.

Masen's smile gentles into a faint thing, barely discernable, and he directs her to pick a table to sit at while he fetches their drinks. Bella picks a table near the windows toward the front of the café, mostly because she feels like she needs to sit down before her quivering knees give out on her. Her backpack is dropped on her feet and she stares at the broad width of Masen Cullen's back as he waits in line.

Something about the view is pinging a frankly foreboding sense of familiarity, but then she _has_ seen Masen Cullen's back once before, hasn't she? With the wink - _with the wink_, because he _winked at her_, because he _knew_ who she was? Even then?

_Oh, my God_, she thinks with heavy disbelief. _That was over a month ago. He figured it out a month ago_?

Truly, both Masen Cullen and Master Culler deserve recognition as one of the great minds of their generation. Either he's better at deductive reasoning than Sherlock, or he figured it out another way -

Or both. It's probably both. Bella is _literally_ all over the internet, as either Leah's ongoing documentary subject, or as Swanning. Connect one with the other, and it can't be that difficult to come up with Swansong. Or to start with Swansong and end up at one of the other conclusions, really.

He probably figured it out easily. At least Bella has the defense that, aside from Master Culler, Masen isn't really online _anywhere_ else. That makes her feel a little better.

Mollified, Bella is in a much more coherent state of mind, right up until she realizes that by accepting a date with Master Culler she had _actually_ accepted a date with Masen Cullen. A date that she is currently on. Right now.

She manages another spiral of disbelief before Masen brings two oversized ceramic cups back to the table.

"I wasn't sure which you would like," he says, setting the cups in the middle and gesturing for her to take one.

Both are topped with pretty latte art - flowers, or a leaf - that are common to these cafes. They both seem like plain options, probably flavored with extra pumps of syrup but ultimately lattes without the frills. She selects the one in the yellow cup, scooting it closer to her over the polished wood grain of the table.

Bella goes to take a sip before abruptly setting the cup down. Now that she's - kind of - settled after this _whopping revelation_, she has had time to process the bruises and cuts still visible on Masen's face. Up close, she can see that stitches had sunken into his hair line, right above his forehead, and that the bruises on his wrist, his hand, his brow are all in that awkward stage of ugly green-purple mottling. Seized by new worry - because this doesn't look like _minor_ injuries from an accident - Bella can't stop herself from blurting out her concerns.

"Are you okay? How are you feeling after the accident? Should you even be walking around?"

Masen is unruffled by the rapid-fire questioning. "I'm fine," he says simply. "How do you like the coffee?"

Bella squints her eyes, but takes a sip anyway. He obviously doesn't want to talk about the accident and she's not going to push. It's probably not the right conversation for a…first date, anyway.

_Oh, God, she really is wearing a Hogwarts shirt on a first date_.

Smothering her internal embarrassment, Bella manages to scrounge together an opinion about the coffee. "It's great. A little sweet."

"You don't like sweet." It's a statement, not a question, but more _importantly_ it looks like he's genuinely cataloguing her answer.

"I don't dislike it," she hedges.

"Mm."

That's a hum. He answered in a _hum_. What does a _hum_ mean?

Bella opens her mouth, but her teeth click shut when she notices that, around them, the café is near-silent and over half the patrons are staring at them. And then she notices that she is leaning forward, elbows on the table, very clearly edging into Masen Cullen's personal space - not that he seems to mind, because he's doing the exact same thing.

"Oh_,_" she says, cheeks heating up again. She's too comfortable with him, she knows that. Bella leans back for some semblance of dignity or self-respect. Both. Either.

She's so _flustered_.

Masen lifts a brow, a silent question.

"It's just…we're kind of public," Bella says haltingly.

"Mm."

Was that an agreement? Is he _agreeing_ that they're in public? His expression is completely inscrutable. She has no idea what he's thinking. Maybe he thinks she's silly. Maybe he regrets the whole thing. Who knows?

"People might get the wrong idea," she elaborates.

Because even in 2020, being in public with someone has certain connotations. And is Masen Cullen _really_ willing to make that kind of statement?

"No," Masen disagrees, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee with an air of utter confidence. "They'll get the right idea."

And then he _winks_.

Bella's heart flips.

* * *

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**Today was amazing. Shocking but amazing #isthisthereallife #isthisjustfantasy

Alice Bee **ʘ****aliceseesyou  
**I KNEW IT!

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**Wtf don't vaguepost **ʘ****thelittlecygnet ****ʘ****aliceseesyou**

Rose Hale **ʘ****byanyothername  
**Spill the tea **ʘ****thelittlecygnet**

* * *

**A/N: So, how did we feel about the _reveal_? I hope I managed to capture Bella's slow-dawning realization and Masen's sense of nerves because _wow, he acutally cares a lot about this_? I alternated between their perspectives because I couldn't decide who would be the better narrator for this, so I was just like, _fuck it lets do both. _  
**

**Regarding any of the medical stuff, I did not go to medical school and all of my knowledge is cobbled together from House, medical C-Dramas, and Google searches. So. Just go with it! **

**Also, for fans of the C-Drama this story is inspired by, I hope you liked the way I adapted some of the _best scenes_ of the show. I entertained the idea of the bike riding and the family-owned restaurant and the basketball game, but I nixed them early on because I felt that some of them didn't fit a Western adaptation - and I'd already fiddled with so much of the timeline that it wouldn't have made sense. This, for me and for this story, feels more authentic to what I'm trying to do here. Although, note that the Crimson Trees blog is acting as some of the "they went public!" flavor for the chapter.**

**Anyway! Stay safe, stay smart, stay at home, and** **_for fuck's sake if you are at home don't throw a party for your 1 yr old baby and invite a dozen people over who then run around your neighbor's yard touching all the shit their with their grimy, germy hands_ like _my_ neighbors have done today. It's called social distancing for a reason - as in, keep your social distance the fuck away from my shit, and that _includes your freakin' kids_! Ugh. And I wonder why I have stress and anxiety. Honestly.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. **

**~Rae**


	28. chapter 15

**[chapter_15]**

Bella's first date with Masen Cullen might be the longest first date in the history of first dates. Or at least, it's the longest first date _she's_ ever heard about. She isn't complaining. She thinks she could probably talk to - stare at - be around - Masen Cullen all day and never grow tired.

She isn't completely sure, because she is trying to learn the code to all his microexpressions, but she _thinks_ Masen feels the same way. Otherwise - she hopes - he would have already ended the date, made up a reason to never spend any time with her again, and also would have formally ended their Dawn of Warcraft marriage.

Masen doesn't do any of that. Instead, when one cup of coffee turns into two cups, and those two cups turn into talking long enough that the summer sun begins to set, Masen offers to buy her dinner. Rather than seeing the natural end of a coffee date, Masen _extends_ it with an additional offer, and Bella doesn't turn him down.

That has to mean something, right? Masen Cullen, she thinks, is a man who expresses himself through actions rather than words. He's stoic and intelligent and isn't free with his speech, but he doesn't seem the type to do anything he _doesn't want to do_. So even if he doesn't say as much with the kind of effusive enthusiasm someone else might use, she reads into what his actions are saying.

And his actions are saying that he doesn't want their date to end, either.

Because that is what it is, she reminds herself. It's an actual, real, very public date, and it is meant to be the start of _something_, make no mistake about it.

It's possible she's also on the most intentional date ever, in addition to it being the longest. The way Master Cullen - Masen Cullen - is, there can be no other reason except strategy to make sure their date is as public as it can possibly be. If he hadn't wanted it publically known that Masen Cullen, who had gone four years without so much looking at a girl, was on a date then he would have picked somewhere off-campus. The fact that he insisted on meeting for coffee at one of the busiest cafes around campus _says something_.

And, well. Bella may be flustered, but she isn't stupid. She's paying attention to everything he does and doesn't say. And right now everything Masen Cullen is broadcasting is pointing all fingers at the - frankly _unbelievable_ \- conclusion that he must like her. He must like _her_, as Swansong, quite a bit.

She hopes that's true. She hopes she isn't reading into anything, projecting her own desires and her own feelings onto him.

But she thinks that she's right. She _feels_ like she is, way deep between her ribs, way back in her brain where _feminine instinct_ resides. Masen Cullen likes Bella Swan as much as Bella Swan likes Masen Cullen. That's the only conclusion that can be drawn.

_Please be true_.

Masen asks her where they should go for dinner as they leave The Coffee Circuit roughly four hours after they arrived. She briefly entertains the thought about recommending a place that has a little class, somewhere they can sit and dine and she won't look like a _total_ pig, but then her stomach growls - embarrassingly loud - and the thought flies right out of her mind.

"I know this great shawarma place," she says instead. "They make the best shawarma on this side of town, hands down the best you'll ever have."

Masen tilts his head, a twitch at his lips. "Lead the way."

"You're laughing at me," she accuses after a while, leading them both toward the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant she found during freshman year.

"You remind me of a friend," he says. "Peter, or rather Pestulent, also has strong opinions about food."

"Oh?"

There definitely is a softening of amusement on his face. "Your opinions are decidedly more PG than his."

Bella's eyes widen. "Oh," she titters, catching onto the implication. "Somehow, I don't find that surprising."

"Mm."

They continue the rest of the walk in companionable silence. Masen keeps his strides slow so Bella can keep up, mindful of their height difference. She hadn't noticed before, but walking side-by-side, she can now see that he is just tall enough that she can tuck herself neatly beneath his chin; if she were on her tippy-toes, she might be able to hook her chin over his shoulder. Her face heats up at the thought. Bella is used to casual touches like that - she and Leah, not to mention the boys in La Push and their roommates are all prone to draping over each other - but she isn't sure that Masen Cullen would welcome that kind of touch. He doesn't strike her as the type to do anything other than keep a clear bubble of personal space.

Although - well. He is walking awfully close, isn't he? Masen has made a point to put himself between her in the street, and each time they cross to a less-busy sidewalk, she wonders if it's intentional or not that his hand rises to hover near her elbow, her hand, her back - not touching, but _ready_, almost the way a parent hovers hands behind a child learning to walk. It's protective, she thinks, and still respectful.

By the time they reach the tiny restaurant, Bella has reached some kind of internal settlement. She's still jittery and giddy in turns to find herself on a date with Master Culler Who Is Masen Cullen, but she no longer feels like jumping out of her skin for fear of scaring him off with her star-struck idol worship. Now, she is only excited and eager. She can't seem to keep a quietly pleased smile off her face, which widens each time she glances at him out of the corner of her eye.

_He's here. He's really here_, she thinks with muted awe, taking in the way the flickering streetlights highlight that straight masculine planes of his profile. She scarcely misses tripping over the door frame when he reaches forward to open it for her, the bell above the door ringing to announce their entrance.

Bella has been to this little diner enough that the matron, a lovely Middle Eastern woman who greets her in cheery Arabic, recognizes her on sight. Bella beams at her, and orders about half of her usual selection, catching the knowing glint in the matron's eye as she jots down the dishes. Bella blushes, but doesn't change her mind - she hasn't scared Masen away yet, but her appetite might do it for her if she doesn't watch it.

Bella steps aside so Masen can order, but he doesn't move from his spot, standing back from the counter and reading over the menu. She notices his phone in his hand, already rising with Google pulled up on the screen, and bites the inside of her lip.

"It's shawarma," she says, halting him before he can complete his Google search. He side-eyes her with a raised brow, waiting for her to continue, which she does promptly. "It's like a Middle Eastern folded sandwich. Kind of like a burrito, except not really? If you've had gyro or kebabs, they're pretty similar."

"Ah. Lamb?"

"Usually, but you can substitute it with chicken or turkey, if you want." She pauses. "The lamb is good though, and it's more authentic that way."

Masen dips his head in acknowledgement, then places his order. He orders the basics, nothing too unfamiliar, and Bella tucks this piece of information away for further study. Is Masen a picky eater? Is he like Seth, who will eat anything that is placed in front of him provided it doesn't look weird? Somewhere in between? She needs to know with a sudden sort of curiosity, but holds herself back - just barely - from asking. She settles for observing, because she's absolutely certain that his cerebral mind is observing her just as much, which is why she makes great effort to eat more slowly and more carefully than she usually does.

Masen watches her, something like amusement in the squint of his eyes, and Bella somehow feels like she isn't fooling him at all.

Well, it was worth the effort - at least she got delicious shawarma out of it, a fair trade for exposing her gargantuan lust for food. And Masen doesn't seem to mind, she doesn't think. Even Mike Newton had watched Bella eating and had wrinkled his nose in distaste, and he'd regularly declared his love for her on a weekly basis for an entire school year.

Masen merely copies the way she holds the shawarma and eats in non-judgmental peace, even when she meekly pops back to the counter to order an extra serving.

At some point, Bella has the gumption to ask about his company and their current projects - after she spends a solid ten minutes waxing poetic about Pagan Immortals, that is. Masen listens keenly and then speaks at length about their new project, allowing Bella to positively _sink_ into the smooth baritone of his voice.

"We're partially through production of _Menagerie_, an action-adventure gothic horror," he explains patiently, wiping his fingers individually on a paper napkin, the plate in front of him empty. "The game is played from first-person, so players have no idea what they look like. The objective is to pass levels by collecting the artisan animals in the castle, who then help the player escape. The challenge with producing the game is keeping the first person view limited so players won't ruin the plot of the game too soon."

"What is the plot?" she probes, leaning over her discarded plate, her chin in her hand. "You said it's a gothic horror, so I'm guessing some kind of plot twist. Am I right?"

Masen lifts a brow. "Do you really want to know? It's a spoiler."

"I don't care about spoilers," she says eagerly. "Tell me."

Masen hums thoughtfully. "Let's just say, the player eventually realizes that escaping the castle is impossible."

Bella frowns, turning the idea over in her head. A first person gothic horror where players can't see themselves, and it's called Menagerie…

Her eyes widen. "Are the players _part_ of the Menagerie?"

The corners of Masen's lips lift, a shadow of a smile. He doesn't confirm, but he also doesn't deny her logical leap.

"That's diabolical," she tells him. She shakes her head, huffing a laugh. "Oh, my God, and the players also have to deal with the fallout that they've destroyed the castle along the way, right? It's like…like destroying your past to reach your future, only to find out you can't destroy the past without destroying yourself…."

"We're considering marketing it as a psychological thriller," Masen admits.

"I bet! It sounds amazing, though. I can't wait to play it."

Masen stares at her, considering. "You really mean that," he murmurs.

Bella tilts her head. "Of course I mean that. Why wouldn't I?"

But Masen shakes his head, a warm glint in his eye as he notes the time and offers to walk her home - after, of course, he insists on paying for their meals, only for Bella to insist on going Dutch because he'd bought their coffee earlier, too. Masen relents, but only after he confirms that he _can_ walk her back to campus. Bella realizes that that she's been swindled almost immediately - Masen's first offer was high so that she would accept the second offer with more ease, all while letting her think that she got her way through compromise.

Crafty. She'll have to watch out for that in the future.

It's dark out by the time they start their long, leisurely stroll back to campus. Masen walks closer than before, his hand brushing against hers, tingles of electricity skittering up her arm.

"So…" Bella casts a side-long glance, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks, a blush that hasn't seemed to fade for hours. "Your mom teaches an interesting class."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, she wants to kick herself - talking about the family on the first date is too much, isn't it? Or is it only bad if _he_ brings up his family? Alice had been nattering on about dos and donts, and Rose had thrown her two cents in on the group chat, but all the advice is blurring together now. Bella holds a lungful of air, resigned to the awkward silence that will surely follow.

But Masen surprises her. He doesn't seem bothered by the question at all. "I saw you earlier."

"Oh."

"Very studious."

"The class challenging. I'm a little out of my depth," she admits freely. "Marine animals are cute , but protecting them with technology is tough."

"Would you want to do that in the future?"

"I'm not an inventor," she says ruefully. "At least, not in that way. I have a joint major, graphic design and software engineering, but what I really want to do is animate."

"Any media?"

Bella purses her lips. "Games, preferably, but if Disney called I probably wouldn't turn them down."

"Not Dreamworks?" Masen says, almost teasingly.

"Disney has more capital. They even own Marvel and Star Wars now! Working at Disney would be a dream," she declares, then sends Masen a searching look. "But maybe it's someone else's dream. My real passion is with games. If Disney was making the kind of MMORPG that wasn't, you know, _Toontown_ then that would be a different story…"

Masen doesn't say anything, but he does make a thoughtful noise. Another hum that she needs to decipher. Does he agree? Does he disagree? Is he neutral about her assessment? She has no idea, not really. He isn't particularly verbose, but he also isn't closed off either. If she could learn to understand Leah's sharp-toothed affection, she can learn how to understand Masen Cullen's many sounds of acknowledgement.

She believes she can do it, given time.

"I know a good arcade around here," Masen tells her as they near campus proper. There are still a fair amount of people, mostly students who are blowing off pre-midterm steam, and he walks a scant inch closer.

His pinky catches around hers - just for a second - and her heart flutters.

She's never felt like this before. She didn't even know she _could_, because most of the time touch to her is something neutral. Affectionate, sure, but ultimately nothing that causes butterflies to erupt between her ribs. This is _new_. This is, she thinks, what most other people feel when they are attracted to someone.

Is she attracted to Masen Cullen? Well, she certainly _likes_ Master Culler, feels a great amount of fondness for him so strong the emotion is almost foreign, and she _does_ think that Masen is objectively handsome, more good-looking than most other people. But she's always known Masen to be handsome and aside from being flustered that he'd paid her direct attention once - that _wink_ from the end of last semester - it hasn't ever been anything more than remote admiration. Now, though, all she can think about is how much she would like to hold his hand and luxuriate in that closeness.

Her stomach swoops with the realization. _Oh_. She's _attracted_ to Masen - not because he is good-looking, but because he is Master Culler, who she _likes_ as something other than a friend. Now that both sides of the coin have met and she's reconciled his identity, she can't escape the fact that she's as attracted to his physical appearance as she is his mind. Or rather - and more accurately - now that she knows Master Culler's personality is within Masen's icy façade, she can't help but let her emotions cloud the way she feels about his physical self. She likes him, so she _likes_ him in other ways, too.

It's totally alien, but she doesn't want it to go away. She didn't think things would ever _click_ for her like this, and now that they are, she can't suppress the giddiness the follows, or the cherries growing on her cheeks.

"Would that be a date?" she ventures, shy in the wake of her epitome.

"One of many," Masen replies coolly, casting her a considering glance as they pass beneath a streetlamp right outside the west campus entrance. "I have a lot to make up for."

"What?" Bella blinks up at him, bewildered. "No, you don't. What do you think you have to make up for?"

"I missed our final round," he says, seemingly bemused at her knee-jerk responses.

"I don't care about that," she says firmly, leaving no room for any misconceptions. "That was just one tournament. There will be others. We can just win next year."

"Next year…?"

"It's an annual competition," she reminds him.

Masen's eyes glitter, that steely grey-green hiding a thousand thoughts. "So it is."

Bella's heart blossoms.

Neither of them seem to be ready to stop talking by the time they reach Bella's residence hall. She bites her lip, looking at him with an open expression, and Masen tilts his head back toward the winding path. By a silent mutual agreement, they start a convoluted stroll through the various picturesque courtyards of the Stanford campus, their way lit by tall iron lights and the rising moon.

Masen takes her hand at some point. She isn't sure when. She wishes she hadn't missed the moment, but she relishes in the way their hands slot together so neatly. His hand is warm in hers, a little sweaty - betraying his nerves, maybe, she hopes. She smiles gently when he next looks at her and pointedly swings their hands between them.

Masen looks away, but she doesn't miss the pleased miniscule uptick of his lips, or the way his fingers tighten around hers, just a bit.

On their third circuit around campus, when they have bypassed her dorm for the yet another time and true nighttime has set in, it occurs to her to ask why he even approached her in the first place. Why did he message Swansong on Dawn of Warcraft and propose an alliance? Was it random?

It turns out it wasn't random at all.

Red creeps onto Masen's ears and he clears his throat. "Earlier this spring, I was with my brother at that café, the one we met at today, and I happened to notice you playing DOW…Playing better than anyone I know, actually. I was…curious. I wanted to learn more. So I did, and then took advantage of the first opportunity."

"I see." Bella breathes out, sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and releases it gradually as she thinks. She doesn't know what she was expecting to hear, but _I saw you playing a game_ was at the very bottom of her list. But all the same, she's pleased to hear it. Masen noticed her for a skill that she has worked hard to cultivate, not just because of the way she looks. She can't help but preen, sending a beaming smile his way.

Masen lifts a brow. "Imagine my surprise when I learned that my roommates actually knew about you too, Swanning," he says pointedly, something sardonic in the twist of his lips. "There are a lot of interesting videos about you on YouTube. I wake up to a new one nearly everyday from Peter."

As soon as her elation came, it is swiftly replaced by a keen sense of embarrassment. Oh, God. He's seen Leah's long, ongoing documentary of Bella's life - even more mortifying, it seems like he's been amused by them. Which is the _point_, because Leah has a way of capturing entertaining moments, but to know that Masen Cullen has seen videos - some of which she _knows_ are not exactly complimentary - isn't a source of comfort.

She squeezes his hand tighter and hurries to explain, trying to minimize the damage, if any. "I've been my sister's documentary subject since high school. It was originally to help her get into film school - into _this_ film school, so I suppose it worked - but it never quite _stopped_. Leah kept finding reasons to keep filming, like practicing video editing and new filters and I…don't mind it as much as I used to, but there's something to be said about privacy."

Masen lifts the other brow, a silent question.

"Oh, but I _do_ have to approve whatever she puts in the video," she hastens to add. "It's just, with a sister like Leah, you quickly learn that shame has no place in life. Otherwise I'd never leave the house, I don't think. It's helped me, in a way."

Masen huffs out a chuckle. "I can relate. Peter is…You have no idea."

"I have some idea," she disagrees. "I know what Pestulent is like."

"He's worse in real life," Masen says solemnly.

Bella giggles, leaning into his arm as they walk. They're nearing her dorm again, and this time she can't deny how tired she feels. They've been talking for hours and it's _late_ now. Masen must notice, because this time he takes a step further, walking them right to the residence entryway.

She looks up at him when he stops, reluctantly releasing his hand and taking a step back. She laces her hands together, feeling bashful. She knows there are eyes watching from one of the dorm's common areas, because someone is always watching on a college campus. "Thanks for walking me back…and for walking around so long."

Masen offers a smile, one that is soft and steadfast. "Can I have your number? I'd like to spend more time with you. Soon."

Bella blushes to the roots of her hair, but she takes the sleek phone he passes to her and inputs her number, saved as a simple _B Swan_. This time the blush doesn't recede until long after he has moseyed backward, hands in his pockets and eyes trained on her until she disappears inside - and then the blush _stays_, because there are a trio of curious freshmen waiting for her inside, and they have _questions_, and Bella is too frazzled to not spill the honest truth. By the time she extracts herself, she has a feeling that her face will never return to its normal shade of cream.

It's fortunate that Alice isn't waiting up for her when she gets back - surprising, but Bella isn't about to question her good luck. She darts directly into her room, jumps facedown onto her bed, and screams into her pillow.

_She just went on a date with Masen Cullen. And has the promise of more dates to come_.

Oh, _God_.

* * *

Unknown Number

This is Masen

Now you also have my number

B Swan

Hi

Thank you!

Unknown Number

Of course

B Swan

I had a great time tonight

Unknown Number

Thank you for agreeing to meet me in person

I realize it might have put you in an

uncomfortable position

B Swan

It was fine because it's you

And I trust you

Unknown Number

I'm glad

I promise to be worthy of your trust

B Swan

:)

Unknown Number

Goodnight Bella

B Swan

Night, Masen

* * *

Unknown Number - **Add Contact**

Name: Masen Cullen

Nickname: This Is Really Masen

_Display nickname as contact name_ \- **Yes**

Bella stares at the screen of her phone for a beat more, clutching it in a greedy sort of disbelief.

She has Masen Cullen's number. Masen Cullen is Master Culler and he _wants to be worthy of her trust_ \- and he even acknowledged how sketchy it can be for women to meet up with online strangers, to boot.

She's lucky. She's so lucky she can't believe it. This isn't really happening, is it? She's dreaming, right? Struck by the thought, she drops her phone to pinch the skin at her elbow, then hisses in pain. No. She's not dreaming. This is _actually_ her life - the whole day hadn't been some kind of vivid hallucination at all.

Grinning madly, Bella plugs her phone in to charge and tucks herself into bed, sheets pulled all the way up to her nose as she kicks her feet beneath the blankets in near-hysterical excitement. Her hand still tingles, nerves remembering the firm pressure of his finger around hers.

* * *

Cardinal Trees ʘcardinaltreesblog

Phew! We've updated the story you've been following all night long - and can we just say, you're welcome? #doingGodswork #blessed #weshipit

* * *

Masen reclines on his bed, one arm bent behind his head as he fiddles with his phone, a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. He feels particularly pleased, light as a feather, completely without anxiety and tension.

The date had gone even better than he dreamed, and then it had gone on and on and on until he could tell that fatigue was setting in for Bella Swan. After her excellence response to finding out who he is online, Masen had been reluctant to let her get away so soon; he'd been relieved when she agreed to catch a bite to eat, and profoundly glad that she seemed just as unwilling as he was to let their time together end so soon. He doesn't think he's ever walked around campus that much in the four years he went to the school combined. His feet have a pleasant ache that serves as a reminder of this momentously successful day.

_Bella Swan_, he muses, mind washing over how her slender hand felt in his own. She has long, delicate fingers, but they have a strength and a few patches of roughness that tells him she works with her hands frequently. Which, of course, he knows she does. She might have demurred at the idea of engineering technology, but he knows - from Leah Clearwater's videos - that Bella is mechanical, which is of course another layer of interest for him to take apart and analyze.

He likes her hands, though. And her smile, and the dimples that form when she's as happy as she is shy in the moment. And the intelligent, observant gleam in her eyes when she looks at him. And the consideration she puts into her words. And - well, he could go on for hours about all the things he likes about Bella Swan, and all the ways he could see Swansong echoed in each moment of time they spent together.

Masen thumbs through his phone, scrolls down his contact list, and pulls up _B Swan_. The name wouldn't do. It's not demonstrative of the kind of relationship he intends to share with her. He goes to edit the contact information, swiftly and decisively changing _B Swan_ to _The Missus_ and saving the update.

That's better.

Masen breathes out and finally allows himself to feel the exhaustion that weighs down every inch of his body. He doesn't regret it - never would - but he truly didn't intend on forcing his still-recovering body to do so much activity so soon while still concussed. But it's worth it, because in the end he thinks he's made a lot of headway into winning Bella Swan over. Anything he does will be worth it fit it means that he can make the name he saved as her contact into a reality.

He doesn't want her to just be _The Missus_ on his contact list. He wants her to be his missus in reality. He wants to marry her, one day.

If he doesn't marry Bella Swan, then he won't marry anyone. She's it for him, and there is nothing he is more certain about in the world.

Bella Cullen has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? And her hand would look so much nicer with his ring on her finger.

Masen is still smiling, even when he falls asleep.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Paparazzi

Bella

You are not actually having your first bf

when I'm not even there to vet him

Tell me that's not whats happening

Sleep Talker

He's not my boyfriend

Short Cake

Lolololol

Sleep Talker

He's not!

Paparazzi

God damn it

I fucking knew it

Thorny

I feel so emotional

My little virgin has left the nest

Sleep Talker

I feel like that metaphor doesn't

work here

Also

Not my boyfriend

Short Cake

Lol

Sleep Talker

Omg Alice srsly

Paparazzi

Listen

Ali I need you to do a thing for me

If you see this Mfer

This so-called "not my boyfriend"

I want you to tell him that I will yeet his

ass into outerspace if he hurts our Bella

Sleep Talker

Omg don't tell him that!

Thorny

Cool your tits Leah

But also Ali

Tell this guy his assets will also be yeeted

into outerspace if he hurts our Bella

Short Cake

This all sounds v violent

I'm not sure I want to be involved?

Thorny

Too late

The FBI agent monitoring our messages

already knows

Paparazzi

Yeah

You're like idk

An accessory or something

Short Cake

This isn't the kind of accessory I like

:(((((

Sleep Talker

OKAY

Everyone just chill

I don't have a boyfriend

Thorny

Suuuuuure

Sleep Talker

Also

Are we not even going to mention

"yeeted"?

Thorny

Yeeted is correct

Sleep Talker

Is it tho?

Short Cake

I'm with Bells on this

Yeeted doesn't sound right

Paparazzi

Are we seriously discussing grammar

right the fuck now?

There are more important things!

Thorny

What should I say?

Yote?

Short Cake

Maybe yoot?

Sleep Talker

Does yeet even have a past tense?

Thorny

For fucks sake

Someone Google it

Paparazzi

I can't believe you guys are ignoring me

But

Now I have to know or I won't be able to sleep

So Google that shit so we can get back on

topic

* * *

Masen wakes up exactly as satisfied as when he went to sleep, which is why he isn't the least bit perturbed to walk into an all-too-common conversation where his friends blatantly talk about him as if he is a wondrous alien marvel. They have all seem to have decided that the best place for these discussions is the common space on the second floor. Masen lurks in the third floor stair well, amused and unapologetically listening in.

"Masen has game," Peter is saying. "Like, a shocking amount of game. Look at that! He's holding her hand! He's like a real person!"

Masen peers around the corner, sees that they are all converged around whatever Peter is showing them on his phone, and rolls his eyes.

"I'm honestly shocked," Emmett says seriously. "Suckerpunched. How the fuck is it that Masen got the first date out of all of us? He's, you know…He's _Masen_. I don't understand the appeal."

"Apparently Swanning does," Alistair says dryly.

"He's holding her hand waffle style," Peter points out. His tone is somewhat confusing, as he sounds both happy and horrified by this knowledge.

Alistair stares at Peter, but it is Emmett that croaks out a confused, _"What_ the fuck are you talking about?"

Peter huffs at them, as if they are being deliberately difficult. "You know, waffle style! It means…" Peter trails off, sees that he has an unenthusiastic audience, and groans. "Ugh. Whatever, okay. It's like a _thing_. It means a _thing_ to, like, people who are dating."

Emmett takes that at face value, stepping away from the phone and stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. "Man, is it just me, or has this news made anyone else famished? Waffles sound _so good_ right now."

Alistair grimaces. "You Americans and your sugary breakfast."

"Oh, _sorry_ we don't all like fried tomatoes or whatever," Emmett sneers. "Also, fuck you. I've seen the groceries you bring home, Al. You're a Toaster Strudel fiend. You even eat the blueberry ones. You're practically a sugary breakfast criminal."

Alistair rolls his eyes.

Masen, having heard enough of this nonsense for the morning, decides to step in. He takes the final step from the stairs and enters the common area, smiling placidly at his friends. "I'll buy breakfast," he offers.

Immediately, Peter abandons his phone and lets out a great _whoop_ of excitement. "Is this because you're in a good mood? I'm not questioning it!" he hurries to say, waving his hands in the air. "I just want to make sure it happens more often! Is it because of Bella Swan? Is it because your date went well? I mean, we know it did, because Cardinal Trees got _all_ the highlights, but -"

"Mm."

Peter blinks owlishly at him. "Mase. My dude, that's not an answer. I mean, I'm taking it as an answer, but just for the record it's really not."

Masen snorts. He can't quite manage the smother the pull of his lips as he continues on down the stairs to the first floor. Behind him, the others tromp along, exchanging more cross-talk.

"Fuck, is he _smiling?_" Emmett demands.

"He is," Alistair confirms.

"Can cyborgs even smile?" Peter wonders.

"They do now."

"Didn't Data smile?" Emmett asks.

"Data was an android," Alistair corrects lightly.

Peter, meanwhile, has gasped in outrage. He spills out onto the first floor right behind Masen, the office area empty at this hour, and stabs a finger at Emmett. Masen watches on, one brow raised.

"You heathen," Peter accuses. "I can't believe you'd even bring up Next Generation in front of me - in - in front of my salad!"

"Next Generation is better than the Original Series," Emmett says patiently, checking Peter's shoulder as he walks by. "Everyone knows that."

Peter jabs at Emmett's back with his finger. "Everyone the fuck does not know that. In fact, everyone the fuck disagrees!"

Emmett snorts, shakes his head. "One episode, dude. _The Trouble with Tribbles._ I rest my case."

"That's a classic!" Peter cries.

Alistair squints. "Is it, though?"

Peter throws his hands up. "What am I even hearing?" he demands, right before he looks at Masen, searching for some kind of validation. "Masen! Masen, are you hearing what I'm hearing? Are you really going to buy this _delusional philistine _breakfast?"

Masen's placid smile turns into a smirk. "I'm in a good mood, aren't I?"

Peter sputters and Alistair scoffs. Emmett lopes his arm over Masen's shoulders, towing him through the lobby and out the front door. "Happy looks good on you, Mase," he says with more sincerity than usual. "Keep it up."

Masen intends to.

* * *

**Google Search**

What does waffle hand holding mean

Little Things - The Way You Hold Hands Reveals Secrets About Your Relationship

**Interlocked Fingers AKA The Waffle**

_Couples who typically interlock all of their fingers while holding hands tend to have a deeper connection. They have clearly surpassed mere physical attraction toward one another, and feel profoundly for each other on a more substantial level. With this handhold, the partners are showing that they care for one another immensely, and that they are comfortable with being quite vulnerable and honest with each other at times._

* * *

**A/N: Here! Just have, like, an entire chapter dedicated to a first date. These kids are so cute. They _hold hands_! Ah, but is it just me, or is handholding one of the more intimate things that can be done with a partner? I totally get all the Vulcan hand stuff - the way we hold hands says so much. Body language is cool like that, it says all the stuff we can't communicate with our mouths. **

**As to the update schedule, since it keeps being asked, I've done pretty well with weekend updates, usually on Saturday. Stay tuned on my Facebook for news on the updates, since it _could_ change. There are also memes and Buzzfeed quiz match-the-results-to-the-characters on Facebook!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, stay inside, and don't trust restrictions that are being lifted now!**

**~Rae**


	29. wit monger finds foresight

**[wit monger_finds foresight]**

Jasper is back at Stanford for the summer because one of the prerequisite classes for his fall semester is only ever given during the shorter summer quarter. At the urging of his academic advisor, he'd added on two other courses to his schedule , which might lighten his course load next year. Jasper, now a sophomore, agrees because he knows to follow good advice when it's given.

So Jasper is back, because he has to be, but it isn't ideal for several reasons. For one, he'd much rather be back at the ranch in Texas spending his summer on a horse like he usually does, helping Pop round up the cattle and corralling his siblings into some semblance of productivity. For another, the humiliation of being so thoroughly trounced by Masen Cullen in that ill-fated, ego-driven basketball game is still fresh when he returns, and he can't escape the paranoid thought that people are only looking at him because they _know_ about his moment of utter indignity. And third - which is probably the most prevalent reason, and _that_ says something - is that Riley is also back for the summer.

And with Riley comes Bree - and they _both_ have a habit of dishing out unasked opinions. Like, just as an example, Bree thinks its _cute_ that he's _crushing on someone so far out of your league, but I guess you have to shoot your shot_. Riley in particular likes to pitch his two-cents in whenever he can, about all sorts of things, but mostly about how to "charm" women.

Jasper thinks neither Bree nor Riley are founts of reliable advice on these matters, but mostly he's pissed that he's still getting sexiled from his own dorm. He ends up spending almost his entire first week on campus at the library because of this. In retrospect, maybe it's a good thing that Riley and Bree are so…_them_, because if Jasper hadn't been in the library, huddled into a study nook, he wouldn't have heard _actual_ words of wisdom.

He can't see who is talking, but it's some girl. Originally, he'd only started paying attention because her whining was annoying, but then she says something that snags on his thoughts.

"It's nice to be asked out and everything, but is it too much to ask that the guy asking me out shares my interest? Going on another date to sit in awkward silence is not my idea of a good time. If someone made an effort to, you know, like what I like…then that would be better, right? At least that's what I think."

"It makes sense," one of her friends says consolingly. "And I mean, isn't it kind of awkward, just walking up to a random girl and asking her out?"

"Boys."

"Same."

Jasper's brows pull together and he thinks back on his pursuit of Bella Sawn. How had he asked her out? Two blunders where he'd just walked up and waited for her rejection? Apparently, that isn't how it's done. Jasper wouldn't know; he'd never done that sort of thing in high school. Maybe he's just not good at it.

But maybe…well, maybe it's just his approach that was wrong. The whole thing with her liking another guy aside - he doesn't even _know_ how to combat that, but he does think that as long as she's still single, it's a fair game right? - Jasper hadn't really put any effort into letting Bella Swan know that he's interested in her as, like, a person.

Okay. Okay, that's something to work with. Jasper sets aside his study materials and pulls out his phone. He goes back to YouTube for a deep dive, searching for any clue as to how get closer to Bella Swan's interests. The videos are less helpful than he thought they would be, but there's also _a lot_ of them to wade through and Jasper doesn't know where to start. After the second video, he takes a gamble that ClarityIsClear is somewhere else on the internet.

He goes to ClarityIsClear's YouTube profile. She has a Twitter, ClearlyFilmingThis, and the Twitter account is extremely active, which is good. Who is she following? A lot of people, mostly film makers and directors and a dozen normal people. One handle pops out to him - Swanning. Well, that's almost definitely Bella _Swan_, right? He thinks so, and goes onto Swanning's Twitter. Ten minutes later, Jasper learns that Swanning, Bella Swan, is a massive fan of Dawn of Warcraft.

Jasper pinches his lips together. Computer games have never been his forte, and unlike every other guy his age, he hasn't ever had much enthusiasm for gaming. But, this is one interest that Bella Swan _definitely_ has and Jasper likes her enough to at least give it a try.

So, Jasper pulls out his credit card and creates a Dawn of Warcraft account right there in the library. And when he gets back to his room, he pulls out his laptop, downloads the game, and sets to learning how to create his character. It's all a little confusing to him, so he keeps it simple. He'll be a human Hunter and he'll call himself Wit Monger.

It's a little after midnight when he loads the NorCal server and starts his search for Swanning - so the next morning he's admittedly a little tired. Being tired makes him impatient and cranky, so when some tiny girl is late to class and tries to slide into the seat next to him, as if she hasn't just totally disrespected the entire class by showing up _late_, Jasper doesn't have the best ability to keep his cool.

He's not proud of it - far from proud, actually. That girl fell down pretty hard and Jasper got a lapful of cold coffee from the entire ordeal. And the way she'd looked at him, round eyes wide and wet, a terse frown on her face as she huffs up at him with accusation -

Jasper feels low. All his positive feelings about figuring out a way to get close to Bella Swan are washed down the metaphorical drain, especially when the tiny girl storms out of the lecture hall before he can get a chance to apologize. And now he feels like everyone is looking at him because he's a jerk. And, well, he can't exactly defend himself, can he?

He should have just given her the seat.

The next time they have class, he sees that tiny girl on the other side of the classroom. She gives him the stink eye, crosses her arms, and turns away with her pert nose in the air. And again, she's out the door before he can make amends. The coffee he bought to make it up for her is watery with crushed ice; he ends up throwing it away before trudging back to his dorm.

Girls, he thinks, are very complicated - and he doesn't seem to be _good_ with them at all.

He wishes he was back at the ranch.

But because he's not, he keeps pushing forward. Most nights, when he isn't studying in the library, he logs into Dawn of Warcraft to continue his search for Swanning. He isn't successful and he finds that the game is actually a lot harder than it looks. He dies a lot because he accidentally engages in battles with low-level beasts and apparently running away isn't an option. By the time another week passes, Jasper has mastered the basic use of a bow and arrow, Swanning still hasn't shown up.

Maybe Bella Swan doesn't play that often? Or maybe they always manage to log on at different times.

Jasper doesn't know. He thinks he should probably try to find another way to get closer to Bella Swan, because this way doesn't seem to be working. But it also feels too soon to give up, and as far as he knows, she's still single.

Jasper banks his hope and shifts his focus to a problem that he can solve - that tiny slip of a girl who he'd been so rude to. She, at least, is easy to find.

It's only a week before midterms that Jasper finally manages to catch her at their bi-weekly art history class. He sees her coming into the lecture hall and uses the advantage of his longer legs to quickly bar her way. He thrusts out the iced coffee and, red faced, blurts out, "I'm sorry for that time!"

The girl - Alice Brandon, according to the class listing - blinks up at him in bafflement. Her eyes drop down to the coffee and a fine furrow knits her brow. "Is this…for me?" she hazards.

Jasper nods jerkily. "To replace the one I ruined."

Alice takes the coffee, her small fingers brushing against his own, and purses her lips thoughtfully. "You've been bringing coffee to class for a while."

Jasper nods again. He's been bringing ice coffee to class for the last seven classes and has thrown each of them away when Alice Brandon fled too soon to drink it.

"Were they for me?"

"To apologize."

"You bough, like, ten cups of coffee to apologize?" Alice asks, bemused but not hostile.

Jasper, cautiously feeling like he's on better footing with this girl, decides to elaborate. "You didn't get to drink yours because it ended up on my lap. I should have moved over. I really am sorry."

Alice brings the coffee closer to her chest. Her eyes are dancing when she says, "You're forgiven this time. We all make mistakes!"

Jasper feels like he makes more mistakes than most, but he's glad that Alice Brandon seems to have forgiven him. He offers her a smile and she beams up at him, seemingly already forgiving him for his blunder. She invites him to sit with her and he agrees, mostly because he spent a lot of time building this bridge to burn it down so quickly.

It's only as Jasper is sitting beside her that he is struck with a sense of familiarity. Her face in animated joviality, while cute in a pixie-like sort of way, is abruptly something he vaguely recognizes.

He's seen that smile before; he's heard that quick chatter before; he even knows those quick-fingered gestures. He racks his brain, trying to place the familiarity, and comes up blank. He figures he must have been watching her much more closely during classes than he originally thought, so of course she seems familiar to him. That only makes sense.

Jasper relaxes back into the hard wooden seat and lets himself respond to Alice's friendly chatter, reflecting that this is at least one problem solved.

His other problem is a little more complicated. Swanning doesn't seem to be anywhere on Dawn of Warcraft, and some sleuthing on the game forum reveals that it's _probably_ because Jasper's low game level means he can't get to the places on the map that higher-leveled characters typically congregate. Which means he has to figure out how to play the damn game well enough to level up, something that he is struggling with a lot. He just…isn't good at gaming.

He's about ready to abandon this idea altogether when salvation comes in the form of another player, who ends up butting in on his battle with a low-level beast and dealing a killing blow before Jasper is forced to respawn for a fourth time in one hour. The player who saved him is a few levels higher than he is, but unlike him, they seem to have actual skill.

The player, Foresight, shoots him a message.

》**Foresight**: I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!

》**Foresight**: I swear I didn't mean to poach your prey!

》**Foresight**: forgive me!

Jasper didn't even know poaching prey was something he had to be aware of in the first place. He studies Foresight, a female dwarf, and has an inspired idea. Jasper isn't good enough at this game to level up on his own, but maybe if he had a partner…

He just needs to level up enough to find Swanning.

《 **Wit Monger**: nothing to forgive

《 **Wit Monger**: thanks for saving me

》**Foresight**: no problem! :)

》**Foresight**: well, see you later

《 **Wit Monger**: wait!

《 **Wit Monger**: I'm new to this game and I'm not very good

《 **Wit Monger**: I could use some guidance…could you help me?

Jasper waits with bated breath for the next reply.

》**Foresight**: sure! :)

》**Foresight**: let's team up!

Jasper lets out a sigh of relief. Okay. Alright, this is good. Foresight can help him level up, and then he can find Swanning, and then he can show Bella Swan that he shares some of her interests and ask her out again and - yes. This will work.

It's a good plan.

* * *

**A/N: Jasper, my dude, it is not a good plan at all. Oh well! Jasper is kind of dumb, so his handle makes me laugh because this Whitlock doesn't have a whole lot of wit! Ah, puns.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay smart, stay home, stay safe!**

**~Rae**


	30. the one with the gossip blogger

**[the one with the gossip blogger]**

Tanya Denali isn't like the rest of her family. Oh, sure, she's driven (she goes to Stanford, just like her family always has), she's charming (her superlative has always been Most Popular), and she's attractive (duh) - but in some of the ways that matter, Tanya Denali is night and day with all of her blood relatives. It's because they all like business and Tanya, who doesn't have a head for math or a single care for _sales marketing_, only really cares about news.

She'll consume it in any form she can get it, but her favorite news is popular culture. She has backdated issues of Rolling Stone, Cosmo, and Times from all the way back in the 90s; she follows all the top blogs for celebrity news; she pays annual subscriptions for her local newspaper, as well as all the best long-standing newspaper publications (except for the Wall Street Journal, because _ugh_, _math_). She's been in every journalism club, as a writer or an editor, ever since middle school.

It's not an exaggeration to say that Tanya Denali lives and breathes the news - and she does it in spite of her father, who would have liked to see her in business school, and all the other relatives at Denali Corps who seem to think that Tanya has yet to grow out of some kind of teenage rebellion against family expectations.

But Tanya isn't rebelling. She simply can't imagine doing anything else. She wants to much to leave her mark on history by writing the kind of journalism that will have some kind of cultural impact. Her soft spot for trending beauty and fashion news has put her at the top of the list for headhunters at NYLON magazine, where they think she might be the right fit for their investigation and walk-through articles after she graduates. She's worked so hard for it that some days it's all she cares about, because Tanya is smart enough to know that being pretty now doesn't mean much for the future. She turns down modeling agencies and talent managers, and focuses on whatever journalism she can get her hands on.

So, yes, Tanya loves the news in all of its variations - which is why it feels like such a keen betrayal when one of the publications she writes for posts a story that might as well rend her heart in two.

She's in the Cardinal Trees break room when she first hears about it, poking at a selection of honeydew melons and cantaloupes that look on the edge, their smell too-sweet and turning her off her hunger. Tanya knows better than to get snooty about the snack selection - she knows it's something of a miracle at all that the Cardinal Trees blog isn't operating out of a basement. While not officially affiliated with Stanford, the school blog shares enough advertisers with the official Stanford daily paper that it can afford a little shoebox of an office just outside of campus. Frankly, it's a surprise that the tiny kitchen has any food at all; she figures Zafrina, the current editor, was using the office to clean out her home refrigerator again. Zafrina likes to brag that she can see everything (the kind of claim any self-respecting gossip journalist would make) but in Tanya's opinion, Zafrina can see everything _except_ expiration dates. Tanya takes a second sniff of the melons, wrinkles her nose, and decides she isn't that hungry after all. She's only just about to go back to her desk to work on a follow-up piece about one of the Cardinal football players having a very loud, very _public_ breakup with his girl friend when the animated conversation reaches her ears.

"Did you get it?"

"Obviously I got it! Who do you think I am, Zaffi?"

"A damned idiot if you think you can call me _Zaffi_ again, Maggie. So?"

"So what?"

"The photo - did you get the photo? The proof?"

"You mean, did I traipse my happy ass down to that eyesore of a coffee shop just to verify if some café's social media post is accurate? Yes, I did. Didn't I just say that?"

"And?"

"And _what_?"

Zafrina makes one of her frustrated noises, the one that matches the intimidating smile she gets on her face when one of her bloggers is being difficult, which knowing Maggie is _exactly_ the point. Tanya lingers just beside the break room doorway, her curiosity burning as she pieces together what's happening on the other side of the door. Zafrina apparently caught wind of some new story and sent their best in-house photographer out for verification. Based on the gloating in Maggie's tone, the story evidently had merit.

Zafrina seems awfully invested in the validation of the story, which is Tanya's first clue that one of the people involved must be high on their continual list of _interesting people at Stanford_. Who could it be?

"And they're _definitely_ on a date. I mean it, heart eyes and all," Maggie says.

"What are you doing here, then?" Zafrina demands. "If Masen Cullen and Bella Swan are on a date on Stanford property, I want photos! This is front page news for us!"

Maggie snorts, and now her voice is moving away, further from the break room and deeper into the office. "What do you think I came back for? I needed more film."

"Makenna could have brought it to you! What if you miss-"

"Didn't I _just_ say heart-eyes. They're too busy mooning over each other to go anywhere anytime soon. Dollars to donuts they won't leave for hours."

"Maggie!"

"Oh, whatever. I'm going, I'm going. I'll text you updates."

"You better!"

Maggie probably throws in a last word (because she can't resist the temptation to backchat) but Tanya is too busy reeling to hear it. Her feet feel like lead as she stands rooted in place, trying to wrap her mind around what she's just heard.

Masen Cullen - unapproachable, devastatingly handsome, unapologetically icy, unparalleled Masen Cullen is on a date. With Bella Swan, the current campus beauty queen as voted by Cardinal Tree subscribers.

Masen Cullen is on a date with Bella Swan? Like, right now? At this very moment? Making _heart-eyes_ at her, whatever that means?

Tanya feels the distinct need to sit down, but can't seem to make her feet move.

Tanya had been campus beauty for two years and Masen Cullen never went on a date with _her_, no matter how many times she put herself in his line of sight and made it known she was available.

How did Bella Swan get so _lucky_?

A piping hot thread of jealousy strikes Tanya right down to the core. Tanya Denali has never had cause to be jealous of _anyone_ in her entire life, but this is the _second_ time Bella Swan has taken something Tanya wanted. Is Bella really so much better than her? Tanya doesn't think so - and yet.

It's some minutes before Tanya can encourage her feet to move, until the shock wears off and the envy starts setting in, rearing its ugly green head and making Tanya's brows pinch together in consternation. She doesn't really feel like writing about football player breakups right now, so she makes a half-baked excuse to Zafrina, promises to meet her deadline, and then flees from the shoebox office. Her phone is out of her purse the second her heels hit the pavement and it doesn't take long to find the story Maggie is chasing.

Masen Cullen and Bella Swan look good together. Like, match-made-in-heaven kind of good.

It's a massive bruise to Tanya's ego to admit it, and even worse one to admit that she's actually envious of another girl to the point of emotional hurt. She's equal parts disbelieving and angered over this - this _date_. Masen Cullen wouldn't even look at Tanya _once_, but here he is, gazing at this freckled little computer geek like she's the only thing that exists in the world -

And, well, it's not like Tanya is in _love_ with Masen Cullen or anything, but she does like him. The fact that someone she's attracted to is not attracted to _her_ is a tough pill to swallow. Her self-esteem takes a serious hit, even as she spends the rest of the night following Maggie's updates and finally reading the early-morning story sketching out the details of the Cullen-Swan date to all the Cardinal Trees subscribers.

Masen Cullen had held Bella Swan's hand for, like, three hours. They'd been seen together all over campus, apparently just strolling so they could keep talking. Their date had apparently lasted all day.

It's so romantic it hurts.

Tanya, feeling roughshod in the morning after scraping together her deadline by the skin of her teeth, decides that she could use a solid ego pick-me-up - one that isn't flavored with the pitying looks Irina and Kate, her roommates, keep throwing her way.

So Tanya waves goodbye to her roommates, climbs into her sporty little car, and makes the drive back home to Concord. Or, well, back to the family business in Concord where her favorite older cousin will surely have the answer for her bruised ego.

After all, _nothing_ discouraged James. He didn't see rejection as anything but another opportunity, and Tanya could honestly use some of that bullheaded resiliency right now.

Tanya bypasses the reception desk at Denali with a wave of her fingers and goes right for the elevators. It must be nearing lunchtime, because as she walks through the halls on James' floor, she can see the jittery tells of employees who are already mentally checked-out and waiting for the lunch hour to start. Tanya hadn't even realized the time, but that's okay. Now she has the perfect excuse to explain her presence.

She raps on the door, a sign of cursory politeness, and steps in before she can be invited. James is at his desk, polished leather shoes kicked up on the glass top, phone in hand as he scrolls mindlessly through social media. Because James is the oldest of all the Denali brood - and because Tanya has no interest in the family business - he's been tapped as the next heir of Denali Corps. James is smart, but works quickly and slacks off when he's bored or not being challenged. If she had to guess, she figures he's probably all done with the day's work and is just lingering in his office as a show of responsibility. It would be a very James thing to do. He glances up when she clears her throat, the severity of his hawkish features lightening in genuine delight.

"My favorite cousin," he greets, swinging his feet from the top of the desk. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Can't I take you out for lunch?" Tanya feigns a pout.

James snorts. "Lunch is never just lunch," he says, and he's not wrong.

Tanya wrinkles her nose. "Just be nice to me," she orders. "I had a bad day and now I want to feel happy."

James stares hard at her with all the wisdom of his 26 years. He must reach some kind of conclusion, because he pops up from the ergonomic desk chair, slots his phone in his pocket, and lays his arm over her shoulders. "We can do happy," he says with a reassuring pat. "How about this? Lunch is on me."

"I wasn't going to pay for it in the first place," she simpers sweetly.

James rolls his eyes. "You never do and you never will. Anyplace in particular, princess?"

"Where ever is fine."

James follows her out of his office and straightens his suit jacket. "Tanya Denali isn't being picky about the food she's going to put in her precious body? Wow. You really did have a bad day, didn't you?"

Tanya purses her lips and flicks the hair out of her eyes, nose in the air.

James, as astute as ever, asks smartly, "Did you lose something you expected to win?"

Yes. She lost a chance with Masen Cullen and she expected to have one. Bella Swan has made that impossible.

Tanya says none of that. Not here, not when other people are around to listen. She turns to strut back to the elevators and her eye happens to catch on a somewhat familiar face scurrying back to a desk on the far end of the floor.

Where does she know that sweetly rounded face and that choppy pixie haircut from? Tanya, who has a great mind for remembering faces, easily recalls the context. It's that short girl she happened to glimpse James talking to at the internship interviews a few months ago. Tanya had barely been in the building that day, but she'd seen the way James had handled that girl's interview - she's honestly surprised the girl got the internship because her cousin had been almost openly hostile the one time she'd seen the two interact.

Tanya turns as her cousin steps up beside her, his gaze also locked onto the pixie-like girl. She can't quite place his expression, but she would class it as _thoughtful_ in a James-way, which means its more shrewd than anything else.

"Do you know her?" she asks quietly.

James neatens his tie, draws his eyes away to guide Tanya to the hallway of elevators, and answers with a cryptic smirk. "That girl? I know her in a way. Doesn't matter."

_That's not really an answer, Jamie_, Tanya wants to chide. But she knows her cousin well enough to know that the subject isn't up for any exploration at all. It's best not to say anything at all.

Besides, it's not as if James would be _interested_ in a girl like that who, while cute, is more homely than the women he usually goes for. His current girlfriend, Victoria, is a perfect example of the exotic, cold-spun beauty that usually draws her cousin's eye. And really, however James knows that short girl is the least of Tanya's worries.

She puts it out of her mind, dismissing the speculation in favor of spending the next hour being reassured by James that, no matter what she _loses_ at, Tanya will always _win_ at something else. She lets her cousin fluff up her ego and drops the issue of Masen Cullen and Bella Swan altogether.

Tanya Denali is too confident and too in love with her self to fixate on some boy who doesn't even like her. There are other fish in the sea - and, really, Tanya is too good for Masen, anyway.

Bella Swan can have him.

* * *

**A/N: It's an early update, but don't mind me, I'm just prodding the plot along in the right direction. The next update _should_ be this weekend, but it might be on Sunday instead of Saturday. Who knows? I never do.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay home, stay inside, stay safe!**

**~Rae**


	31. chapter 16

**[chapter_16]**

Bella runs out of basic study supplies just after mid-terms. She considers it a miracle that her highlighters, pens, and sticky notes made it past the first half of the semester, especially because of how much studying she has to do for Professor Cullen's class. As it is, it's her first order of business to drop by the campus bookstore to stock up on what she'll need to get to finals. Her other classes this quarter don't require half as many notes, and most of them she can take on her laptop in the first place - but Professor Cullen has Bella scrambling back to old fashioned note-taking, because it's the only way she can commit everything to memory. Something in the tangibility of smearing highlighter across the textbook really ingrains the information.

Luckily for Bella, the campus bookstore is more or less empty. It's a warm mid-July day and the weather is perfect for sprawling across the courtyards, and Bella suspects that's part of the reason why the usually-busy store is slow. A pep in her step, still buoyed by the fact that Masen Cullen's number is _really_ in her phone, Bella browses for the best deal in the stationary section. She's a bit particular with the types of materials she uses, so she spends a while searching. Gel ballpoint pens, two black, one blue; assorted neon highlighters, at least one in coveted pink, not just yellow and green; sticky notes, plain square, at least two-by-three inches; a notebook, the last of the composition type because spirals are more difficult to use. She spies a set of sticky flags on her way out of the aisle, the semi-translucent arrows that attach neatly to books to flag important information. Satisfied, Bella balances her items in one arm, mentally chiding herself for not grabbing a basket because Leah, who usually harps on about it, is all the way in Washington and will be for another six weeks.

It's less of a surprise when Bella does end up dropping the sticky flags, and more of a surprise when a slim, French manicured hand picks it up before she can stoop to do it herself. The sticky flags are deposited at the top of Bella's one-armed pile by a girl with perfectly curled strawberry blonde ringlets and a designer handbag. Bella starts to thank her, but the girl cuts her off before Bella can even open her mouth.

"You should think about how you dress now. Wearing _this_ shade of yellow? It completely washes you out, and don't even _think_ about orange," the girl says sharply, running a critical eye over the casual shorts-and-t-shirt configuration of Bella's outfit. "You could maybe do gold, or mustard if you _have_ to wear that part of the wheel but - honestly, you need to be thinking about how you look now."

"Um…"

"Do you know what your best angles are?" the girl demands, and then rolls her eyes dismissively. "Ugh, of course you wouldn't. Try to tip your chin up unless you want your forehead to look huge, and for the love of Prada, don't smile so widely. Holding hands is cute and all, but pictures of a laughing, open mouth are _not_ charming."

"…What are you-"

The girl flicks her hair off her shoulders, her face an expression of haughty perfection, every eyelash curled and every blemish covered. "This is just friendly advice, you understand," the girl says in a tone that does not sound particularly friendly at all. "If you're what he chose, then fine. But at least remember that you also represent Masen when you go out. Don't embarrass him by dressing like some pastel gremlin."

Before Bella can so much as summon a response - _any_ _response_ \- the girl turns her chin and sashays away with a huff, leaving Bella to blink rapidly after her, struck dumb by the abrupt nature of that entire one-sided conversation.

The girl looks familiar. Who is she? It's right on the tip of Bella's tongue, a name she's heard once before. Has Bella talked to that girl? Ah, yes. She did once, for all of one ungratifying minute. That was Tanya Denali, wasn't it?

That was Tanya Denali giving Bella unsolicited fashion advice, under the guise of Bella's casual college co-ed look somehow being embarrassing to Masen. Does Bella dress like _a pastel gremlin_? She doesn't think so, or Alice definitely would have said something a lot sooner. Of course, given what Alice wears, maybe it would have been Rose to speak up? Wait! More importantly, how does Tanya know about Bella and Masen?

Bella casts her eyes around the mostly empty bookstore and wonders how many of these students _also_ \- mysteriously and inexplicably - know about Bella and Masen? And how many of them witnessed _that_ fine interaction with Tanya Denali?

Nobody seems to be looking at her, but that doesn't keep Bella from tilting her head down and buying all her study materials as quickly as possible. Her only goal is to get back to the dorm and rope Alice into discovering exactly _how_ Tanya came across her all-too-accurate information.

Bella scurries back to the dorm and, after she drops her purchases at her feet alongside her denim backpack, she loudly whispers, "_Alice! _I think I need your help!"

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Short Cake  
You guys!  
Look at how cute they are!

_(Picture Attachment: Bella and Masen_  
_sitting at a small table, leaning toward_  
_each other over two cups of coffee)_

_(Picture Attachment: Masen holding the_  
_door open for Bella as they leave the café)_

_(Picture Attachment: Bella and Masen on_  
_campus, holding hands and walking under_  
_a streelight)_

_(Picture Attachment: Bella and Masen still_  
_holding hands, this time the picture is taken_  
_from further away)_

_(Picture Attachment: Another hand holding_  
_picture, but this time Bella and Masen are_  
_far enough away to be almost unrecognizable)_

Sleep Talker  
Okay  
When I asked you for help this is not what I meant  
And I think you know that  
So I'm feeling very betrayed right now

Short Cake  
You blush a lot when youre betrayed

Sleep Talker  
No I don't!

Thorny  
Aww, how pure  
You have to admit it does look cute  
So wholesome  
Like a Hallmark movie

Paparazzi  
Hallmark movies are awful

Thorny  
I know  
But these pictures also give me a  
toothache so

Paparazzi  
The pictures are alright  
Where are they from

Sleep Talker  
Ugh don't ask

Short Cake  
Cardinal trees!  
They did a whole mini series on  
Bella and Masen!

Thorny  
LOL really  
I didn't know our virgin was so interesting

Sleep Talker  
Rose you have to stop calling me that

Thorny  
I will when it isn't true

Sleep Talker  
FFS

Paparazzi  
Wait so  
Youre telling me that someone that good  
is voluntarily working at that stupid gossip blog  
That's criminal

Thorny  
Way to fixate on so-not-the-point Leah

Paparazzi  
I'm just appreciating the artistry  
I could gush over all the mooning like Ali  
if you want

Sleep Talker  
Please no  
One is enough

Thorny  
The only one mooning over anything  
Is Bella and Masen Cullen in those pictures

Short Cake  
IKR?!  
They're so cute together!  
We're so lucky to have these pics!

Sleep Talker  
No we are not lucky  
We are mortified  
We are wondering if this is an  
invasion of privacy

Thorny  
Well, you were in public

Paparazzi  
And its not like the pictures are scandalous

Short Cake  
Plus they're so precious!  
Why wouldn't you want them?

Sleep Talker  
Because it's like  
It's like ACTUAL paparazzi  
Not just Leah, but like real paps  
On a college campus!  
I'm not interesting enough for paps!

Thorny  
Welll…you are now lol

Paparazzi  
Tbh, if I was there, I'd be capturing the same  
content so...

Short Cake  
Plus the blog is kind of invested  
You are the reigning campus beauty

Sleep Talker  
Omg how could I forget?  
Now it all makes sense  
No wonder they were following us

Thorny  
Not to mention your reputation  
And his honestly

Paparazzi  
Its more shocking how shocked you are  
Ali is she getting worked up

Short Cake  
Not really  
Oh wait  
She went for the gummy worms

Paparazzi  
Huh  
So she is bothered by it

Sleep Talker  
Only a little  
I'm sure interest will die down soon

Thorny  
Not likely  
Have you seen the poll

Sleep Talker  
What

Paparazzi  
There's a poll?  
What about?

Thorny  
Are Bella Swan and Masen Cullen the New  
Campus Power Couple?

67% Yes

13% No

16% No, But Only Because Masen Graduated

Sleep Talker  
What is happening  
Am I on an episode of Black Mirror?

Paparazzi  
This is great  
I wish I could see your face right now  
Ali, take a pic

Sleep Talker  
Don't take a picture!

Short Cake  
Okay!  
:)

_(Picture Attachment: Bella looking_  
_right at the camera, horrified and clearly_  
_mid-shout)_

Thorny  
Beautiful

Paparazzi  
Perfect

Short Cake  
I have more!

Sleep Talker  
I want new friends

* * *

In the wake of learning that Cardinal Trees really _did_ send a photographer after Bella and Masen to catalogue their date and then springboard an entire poll off of it that seemingly the whole campus has an opinion on, Bella is admittedly a little paranoid. Regardless of the fact that the gossip is true and the overarching public opinion is positive, she can't help but feel like more eyes are on her than usual. And Bella, who is used to a certain kind of attention, now has to learn how to be a little less bothered by the way it feels like eyes follow her every move.

But, really. She's only _a little_ paranoid - she does have classes to study for and games to play and Alice to wrangle, after all. She's too busy to be honestly bothered for more than a few minutes at a time.

Thankfully, most people have short attention spans too. Within a few days, most of the buzz dies down and she feels less shell-shocked to go to class like everything is normal. No more Tanya Denali approaching her out of some misguided sense of duty, no more photographer following her around, no more polls on insipid gossip sites. Just Bella, and her computer, and her games, and her classes. Just Bella and Masen arranging another date - this time far off campus, because while Masen had _also_ discovered the Cardinal Trees story and had been mostly neutral about it, it was still obvious he wasn't looking for a repeat.

Bella gets it. It's a world of difference to be Leah's willing subject and to be the subject of a gossip blog _again_. She imagines that for Masen, who is trying to build a brand and reputation from scratch, that the attention is equally as burdensome. By mutual agreement, they decide the smart thing to do is to lay low and keep their time together as far from campus as possible. After all, Cardinal Trees might have sent a photographer, but that photographer only took pictures on campus, honoring the implicit agreement that the campus gossip blog be something that only captures information on campus, neatly insulating themselves and bound by a physical limit to not overstep bounds. If Bella and Masen meet off-campus, then Cardinal trees has nothing to work with - end of story.

Bella doesn't mind. She's lived in the area for almost three whole years by now, but she hasn't really explored anything that isn't more than a stone's throw away from wherever that campus shuttle can take her. Which is really a shame because she happens to live in a hub of interesting places and she hasn't really seen any of it. Now, she can, with Masen Cullen as her guide.

Masen sends a Lyft to pick her up at the campus gates, which then takes her down to a quieter part of town, right on the fringe of where all the off-campus businesses that serve Stanford students ebbs away into the rest of Palo Alto. Just as promised, Bella arrives at an actual arcade that looks like it's seen better days, but is still busy enough that she can imagine losing Masen in the shuffle.

He's standing by the entrance, tapping on his phone to pay for the Lyft ride, and looks at her with the faintest of smiles as she approaches, grey-green eyes soft as he pockets his phone. "Was the ride okay?"

"Great. Great driving," Bella answers dumbly. _Great driving_? Well…it is a valid concern for ride-share apps. Sometimes the driving isn't great. It doesn't make her feel any less insipid that _that_ is the first thing she says to him, though, and she breathes out sharply before offering a slight smile. "Hi."

Masen inclines his head. "Hi."

"This is an arcade," she notes needlessly, trying to grasp some concept of normal conversation. Her heart is fluttering in her chest, a butterfly trapped in a jar, mind stumbling over itself in a still-stunned disbelief that she's on another date with Master Culler Who Is Masen Cullen.

She probably won't get over it for a while, but she hopes she'll acclimate soon, because it's mortifying to be so tongue-tied. She was talking to him normally the other day! Bella fiercely wants to go back and reclaim some of that confidence from her past self so she can use it now.

Masen, seemingly amused at her flustering, simply says, "Yes, it is."

"Arcades feel like relics of the 80s and 90s," Bella muses, tucking a flyaway hair back into her loose side braid. "Like, on Stranger Things? Am I going to walk in and see Mike Wheeler?"

"Better Mike than a Demogorgon," Masen says seriously.

Bella titters and tension drains right out of her back, spine loosening along with her smile. "I don't know, I thought Dart was kind of cute," she says, walking into the arcade as Masen holds the door open for her. Inside, the arcade is dimly lit with dark wooden flooring and three rows of games with neon lighting that paint the entire place in rainbow hues. It's loud inside, between all the people laughing and cheering and all the sound effects of the games. She stops just on the threshold, twisting around to keep track of Masen as he follows her inside.

And then, natural as anything, Masen places his hand on the small of her back and guides her down one of the rows. His hand is warm, a searing brand she can keenly feel through the cotton of her loose high-neck tank top. He seems intent on a particular game, which she finds interesting because it indicates he has a _preference_ and she is eager to soak up all information about him like a sponge. The thought to ask about coins or tickets dies on her tongue when he stops in front of a game and clunks down a bucket of quarters that he's definitely been carrying the whole time and that she _definitely_ only noticed right now.

Masen Cullen has a worrying knack for completely obliterating her observational skills. She'll need to work on that.

Tuning back into the present, Bella examines the game with a gimlet eye, takes in the joystick and the round yellow buttons, and then squints at Masen. "Mortal Kombat? Really?"

"It's a classic."

"It's cut-throat is what it is!"

"Have you played before?"

"On my brother's PS3," Bella admits, taking her place in front of one joystick while Masen inserts the coins to boot the game up. "Not on an upright machine."

"Mm." Masen gives her a calculating look. "Should I go easy on you?"

"Absolutely not!" Bella huffs. "I'll be mad if you don't give your best play."

Masen lifts a brow. "Is that so?"

Bella purses her lips and stares at the tilted screen, flipping through character selection until she gets to Sonya Blade. "Just you wait," she mutters, competition already singing through her blood. "Give me one game to learn the controls and then we'll see if you're so confident."

Masen selects Johnny Cage and predictably wipes the floor with Bella within minutes. But Bella is a quick study and, while much different than the Play Station control she first played the game on, the upright configuration is easy enough to get a handle on. The second game goes on for much longer than the first as Bella still acclimates, but by the third she uses a quick combo attack that bests Masen in under a minute.

"Hm." Masen matches the competitive gleam in her eye with one of his own. "Another."

"Oh, you're on." Bella grins, matches Masen's ninja selection with her own, and proceeds to trade wins with him for the next long while.

At some point, they move on to other games, and the same pattern emerges - each of them play at full-tilt, or as much as is possible on an arcade game, and they find themselves evenly matched. It doesn't seem like the genre matters, either. Racing games, shooting games, even high score games like Pac Man - no matter what, the one-ups keep coming.

She's never had so much competitive fun in her life, and by the end of the first hour, Masen's slight smirks have broken into intense expressions of concentration, of smugness, of gloating, of frustration. He's startlingly animated when he games, and Bella understands that she is being allowed to see something that most other people don't. The knowledge makes her grin madly, feeling silly and giddy and free as she weaves around him, jumping and clapping and taunting him with friendly trash talk that makes him roll his eyes.

They don't look like the other obvious couple in the arcade, where the boy is helping the girl clumsily play her way through a shoot-style game. Bella spares the thought that maybe she should try to downplay her abilities, if only to create the opportunity for Masen to do that kind of close-range demonstration, but she swiftly rejects the thought. She won't make herself lesser for anyone, not even Masen, and she honestly doesn't think he would want her to.

But that doesn't mean that the opportunity never arrives. Bella just doesn't see it coming.

After they manage to work through most of the games in the arcade, she finally catches sight of the claw machine tucked into one of the front corners, and swiftly makes a beeline for it. "I have a love-hate relationship with these games," she tells Masen when he catches up. She meets his eye in the reflective glass on the other side of the machine and notes that he has his brow quirked inquisitively. "I know they're rigged," she explains with a wrinkled nose, dropping her gaze to peer in at the plush characters inside. "But I can't help but play them, hoping that _this time_ I'll win, you know?"

Masen passes her the near-empty buck of coins. "Play," he says.

Bella sucks in a breath through her teeth, weighing the offer. There really isn't that much to consider. Claw machine games might be the only games Bella can never win, but it doesn't stop her from trying and clearly Masen is okay with using the last of their coins for this. She smiles at him, feeds the machine two coins, and gives the machine a try. Naturally - because the game is _rigged_ \- she doesn't get the plushie she was aiming for.

"Try again," Masen suggests, moving to stand at her shoulder.

Bella does try again, and again after that, and each subsequent failure is more amusing than it is frustrating. "Wow," she giggles, even as the claw fails to grasp at the yellow arm of a stuffed Pikachu. "I'm _really_ bad at this. Should you be wasting these coins on this game? I'm starting to feel bad."

Masen shakes his head. "Not a waste," he counters quietly. And then, much to her shock and delight, Masen moves behind her, his chest lining up with her back as his long arms reach around her body, taking the control from her. "Let me try. Which do you want?"

Bella points at a random plushie. She doesn't care which one he gets, if he gets one at all - her thoughts are almost entirely swallowed up by the heat of his body and the musky cinnamon of his aftershave. She tries to get her heart under control but his proximity makes that impossible.

She feels safe. Protected. Warm. She likes it.

Bella manages to unscramble her thoughts in enough time to see Masen set his jaw in the reflected glass, jostle the claw into position, and manage the _perfect_ timing to pick up a plushie, which is then deposited into the shoot. He'd done it in two tries.

Masen retrieves the prize for her, a plush Eevee that he passes to her with a brush of his fingers and a lingering smirk that makes him entirely too handsome. Bella blushes fiercely, even as she stutters a _thank you_ around a beaming smile, the plushie hugged to her chest.

Later, when she's back at the dorm and her heart is finally calming down, the plush Eevee gets a place of honor on her bed and she feels an echo of warmth every time she looks at it. Not even Alice's teasing or gossip blogs can deter the brook of happiness bubbling quietly through her entire body.

* * *

Lee Lee  
Ugh  
Why  
Why did Old Quill do this to me

Bell Bell  
So PBS too the pitch huh

Lee Lee  
Yes  
Yes PBS did  
Is PBS dumb?  
I haven't even graduated!  
I'm not qualified to make a  
documentary

Bell Bell  
I mean…

Lee Lee  
Okay whatever  
So I make them all the time  
But not about anything serious!

Bell Bell  
A valid point  
You don't have to do it though?  
You could just...not?

Lee Lee  
Bullshit  
I'm not going to be the one  
responsible for breaking Old Quill's  
heart  
He's ancient  
He literally might not survive  
disappointment

Bell Bell  
He's like 70 something  
That's not that old

Lee Lee  
How is that not old

Bell Bell  
People live to 100 all the time

Lee Lee  
Listen  
100 years or 70 years  
Old is old

Bell Bell  
I disagree, but okay

Lee Lee  
You've changed in our time apart  
First you get a boyfriend  
Now you disagree with me

Bell Bell  
Youre so extra

Lee Lee  
Now you call me dramatic!  
Who are you?  
Where's my sister?

Bell Bell  
_(eye roll emoji)_

* * *

Alice sidles up to Bella in their bathroom one night as Bella is brushing her teeth and asks, "Have you kissed your boyfriend yet?"

Bella coughs in surprise and toothpaste foam splatters onto the mirror and sprays half of Alice's face. Alice rears back and wipes at her skin with a mighty frown while Bella hastily rinses her mouth. "You deserved that," Bella tells her frankly as she cleans the mirror.

Alice giggles. "I guess I did! But spitting toothpaste on me doesn't answer my question!"

Bella has the unenviable pleasure of watching her own face heat to a rosy hue. She turns away from the mirror resolutely and marches herself out of the bathroom. "Alice," she complains, plopping down onto a bean bag. "You can't keep asking the same question every day."

"I can too!" Alice argues cheerfully. "See, if I ask every day, then I'll be the first one to know when that changes."

It makes sense, but Bella doesn't have to like it. When she says as much to Alice, her friend only loosens a tinkling laugh and drapes herself across another beanbag. Bella shakes her head, begrudgingly amused.

"So, how's your internship?" she asks when Alice has settled down.

Alice's expression turns into a thoughtful moue, lips pushed out and eyes squinted. "It's going real well, I think," she answers after a moment. "Great, actually. It was supposed to be an internship in their gaming department, but I guess they needed more staff in HR, so that's where they put me. It's easy! All I do all day long is sort paper into files."

"Sounds like busy work," Bella observes. "Are you okay with that? I mean, internships are supposed to be about experience…"

"Are you kidding? I'm getting paid for a few paper cuts!" Alice laughs. "It's great, way less stressful than I thought it was going to be."

"Well, that's good…"

"But you know what? Even being in the same building has made the whole technology and gaming thing much more interesting," Alice says conversationally. "I actually went and got an account for that game you play, that Warcraft game?"

Bella's brows shoot up in surprise. _"Really_? Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you set it up!"

Alice waves her away. "I know, I know, but I wanted to see what all the fuss about was myself. It's kind of fun! I get why you like it so much. I mean, I'm not very good at it yet, but it's still fun…"

Bella beams at her. She never thought anyone in her inner circle - other than Seth - would ever be into gaming, and learning that Alice is giving it a whirl is _beyond_ exciting to Bella. "That's so cool. Ali. We should game together sometime."

Alice makes a face. "I don't know. My Foresight probably won't stand up to your Swansong."

"I could show you a few things," Bella offers.

Alice laughs. "I know! I'm so lucky! I get to live with a walking-talking guidebook!"

Bella rolls her eyes. "I'm not _that_ good," she disagrees. "If you want a walking-talking guidebook, then Masen would be - Oh!"

"Oh?" Alice echoes, sitting up with mild alarm. "Oh, what? What is _oh_?"

"Shoot! The time!" Bella squirms gracelessly out of the beanbag and scrambles to her feet, shooting Alice an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Ali! I would talk more, but I promised Masen that we would complete a dungeon and I'm _late_, so I-"

"I get it! Don't worry about me!" Alice chimes, shooing her away with another giggle. "Have fun!"

Bella scuttles quickly to her room, where she logs onto the game and apologizes to Masen for her tardiness, because God knows both of them are going to be sensitive about being late for a while. But even as Swansong swirls through the instance dungeon with Master Culler at her side, Bella makes a mental note to make time to play with Alice sometime soon.

* * *

Peter C. **ʘ****peteyp****ete  
**Hey **ʘ****maestro **jsyn in this household we believe in telling our bros when our SOs are coming over so they aren't walking around in their undies

Em for MC **ʘ****m****athmagician  
****ʘ****peteypete** You're fully clothed, I'm literally looking at you right now

Peter C. **ʘ****pe****teypete  
**Yeah, so what? I COULD have been naked so my point still stands

Alistair the Recluse **ʘ****rat****herbealone  
****ʘ****maestro **I will quit if Peter walks around naked

Masen Cullen **ʘ****maestro  
**Noted **ʘ****ratherbealone**

* * *

Bella had, at some point after the time she realized Master Cullen is Masen Cullen, entertained a thought to what Midnight Sun, his company, would look like. She imagines it as something high-tech and savvy, a hub of bright minds all working toward the same goal of completely revolutionizing the quality of games that can be churned out by the gaming industry. She imagines something calm, organized, cool, peaceful.

She does not imagine what Midnight Sun actually is, which is a warehouse-turned-multi-purpose building, all of it very industrial and exposed with open wiring and bare brick walls and recycled wood. It's clean, of course, but the entire office space is one sprawling land of computers broken up into vague departments marked only by neon signs that swing overhead. In retrospect, it's all _very_ Masen - a solid mixture of functionality and innovation, everything stark and out in the open and designed for productivity above all else. She likes it; she can see how a studio like this can produce something like Pagan Immortals.

By the same token, Bella isn't sure what she expects of Master Culler's gaming friends in real life, but the dissonance of their online personas and their real life personalities makes a sort of sense after only a little observation. Peter - Pestulent - is a bubbly chatterbox with bright eyes and a friendly smile; Emmett - Pythagoras - is tall and curly-haired, just as quick to joke as he is to sneer; and Alistair - Hermit - is a pallid, sarcastic, light-eyed shadow slinking and muttering in the background.

Bella, standing politely at the edge of the lobby, watches all three of them roll through early-morning motions as they wake up, alternately yawning and staring at her with varying levels of surprise. It's immediately clear to her that Masen hadn't told them she would be dropping by so early, or that she was here to talk about the possibility of interning at Midnight Sun for the rest of the summer. They all stutter through introductions, and then each of them stare at Masen, who says nothing.

Bella spares a thankful thought that it's a weekend, because otherwise there would probably be a dozen more awkward stares to contend with. She clears her throat delicately, twining her fingers around themselves behind her back. "So…What would you have an intern do here?"

Blank stares.

Masen still says nothing, though he does observe with a marginally sharper eye.

Peter is the first to speak, which seems pretty par for the course. "Wait. You're here for…an internship, and _that's_ why we had to wake up this early on a Saturday morning?"

Bella side-eyes Masen. He _really_ didn't tell them anything. He just arranged for her to arrive, apparently woke all of them off, and stood back to watch the show. She wants to pinch him.

"Well…" Bella bites her lip. "Do you…not need an intern? It's fine if you don't."

Peter flaps his hands. "I didn't say that! I did not say that we don't need an intern, especially if that intern is Bella Swan! I definitely did not say that!"

"We heard you," Alistair mutters.

"I just want it to be clear!" Peter exclaims. "I don't want her to misunderstand!"

"Chill. I think she gets it," Emmett says. He scratches the side of his nose, stifles another yawn. It takes her a moment to place his face, but she recognizes him as one of the guys who likes to try to talk to Rose at the library - and for that matter, Peter looks vaguely familiar, too. She must have seen them on campus, back when they were students still. "An internship, huh? I mean…I guess let's vote?"

Peter and Alistair nod with _vastly_ different levels of enthusiasm.

The boys exchange a series of facial expressions, a silent conversation that is met with a blank stare from Masen, and it seems like Alistair is about to speak on behalf of the others - but then a high-pitched sound and a wet gurgle and a faint tinge of burning arises from the kitchen area just off the lobby and Alistair's mouth snaps together, expression twisted with annoyance.

"Fuck," Emmett groans, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Not again."

"I hate this coffee maker!" Peter yelps. "First it's backordered, now it doesn't stop bitching! I hate it! Let's throw it away, or-or burn it, or _something_! Seriously, _fuck_ Keurig!"

Even Masen looks displeased, his mouth pulled into a frown. Bella follows his gaze to the contraption in the kitchen and, without much more thought beyond the vague sense of urgency that says _someone_ has to deal with the machine before it starts a fire, she trots past the boys and rounds the island counter. Pressing her lips together, Bella swiftly unplugs the overly complicated machine and runs a critical eye over it. She's unfamiliar with this exact model, of course, but the Keurig she and Leah pooled their cash for last Christmas had an issue that she fixed a few weeks ago. She could give this a shot - no use a fledgling company wasting money on a coffee pot when she might be able to clear out whatever mechanical failure is causing this baffling dysfunction.

"Do you have a tool box?" she asks the room at large. When nobody answers, she raises her head with a furrowed brow, looking between all of them. Her brows shoot up at their sheepish expressions, or in the case of Masen, the way he looks away at a middle distance instead of answering.

Really. Four grown men, and not one of them with a toolbox. She vows then and there to never let it slip to Leah, because her sister would break a rib laughing so hard and make a joke about computer geeks overlooking basic supplies or something.

Bella shakes her head. "What about a screwdriver?" she tries. "Or even a nail file? A hex key?"

"Uh…"

"You really don't have _anything_ tool related?" she asks incredulously. "What about the computers? What do you do when one needs a repair?"

"That's what Geek Squad is for," Peter says.

"I just buy a new one," Alistair interjects.

"Even Masen doesn't do repairs himself," Peter adds, and Masen doesn't contradict him.

Bella _barely_ restrains her gaping mouth. "So, none of you…?"

Four shaking heads. Bella almost snorts.

"I could have tried to fix this," she says. "But if you don't have any tools…"

Emmett snaps his fingers. "I have an eye glasses repair kit!"

Bella thinks about the tiny screwdriver in those kits and nods her head. It'll do. Emmett runs upstairs to retrieve the lone tool in the entire building and Peter fills the silence by chattering about the upstairs rooms and how awful the coffee pot is and how, really, they all _hate the demon Keurig, so there's no reason to try to fix it_. Bella waves him off, because it's better to at least try to see if it can be fixed, and when Emmett returns, she swiftly pries off the casing protecting the electric components. None of the wires are corroded and the internal chip isn't corrupted, so the problem probably _is_ a mechanical error.

"When was the last time you cleaned it?" she asks as she pops the casing back into place, before spinning the machine around and working on getting to the internal mechanisms. Again, nobody answers her question and Bella sighs, casting each of them a moderately despaired look. "These have to be cleaned. They like to clog up. Are you using distilled water? These machines don't do well with tap - the minerals are too corrosive…"

Masen coughs. "We didn't realize."

_How have any of you survived past 20_? She wonders with no small amount of humor, which she's sure is obvious on her face because of the way Masen narrows his eyes. She quirks a brow in return, and then pointedly walks the other three on how to properly clean and maintain the machine, since apparently none of them read the instruction manual at all. By the time she's done, the coffee maker is humming sweetly and happily gurgling away, and the boys have reached the conclusion that they do, in fact, need an intern.

Wryly, she wonders if her internship is going to be as a glorified handyman. But even if it is, that's okay. She can see for herself that Midnight Sun is a small company, and their only IT support is their own experience and the troubleshooting they can find on Google - they're simply too small now to have a dedicated division for tech support. Experience is experience; any internship looks good on a resume, and since Bella was passed over at Denali Corps, she might as well do her best to secure a different internship. The fact that it's at Masen's company and the fact that Midnight Sun produced her new favorite mobile game is just icing on the cake.

Bella doesn't realize Masen has circled around to the kitchen until she feels a hand on her hip. She turns toward him, intending on ribbing him about his basic life skills, but her motion puts her cheek right against his mouth - and based on the glimmer in his eye, it's obvious that's _exactly_ what he intended to happen.

Immediately, Bella blushes to the roots of her hair, her cheek positively _burning_ as Masen pulls away just a fraction, the wide-eyed stares of his friends riveted on them. She inhales sharply, trying to control the sudden thunder in her heart.

Masen, on the other hand, has leveled an expectant stare at the others. "What are you staring at?"

Peter points a finger at Masen, jabbing with accusation. "You! You just kissed the new intern!"

"No," Masen disagrees with a smirk, leaning further over Bella's back, his voice right in her ear as he responds. "I kissed my girlfriend, who happens to be the new intern."

Bella's heart races harder, her eyes widening as she twists to stare up at Masen, at the hinge of his jaw and the straight line of his nose and taunting glint in his eye. He's using her presence to tease his friends - and honestly, she doesn't expect anything less, because it's a very Masen thing to do. Expecting it doesn't make it, or the entire situation, any less stunning. She wouldn't put it past him to have orchestrated the entire morning - with _probably_ the exception of the busted coffee maker, because it was painlessly obvious he was as clueless as the others - just for this one moment.

_Too cunning!_

Peter is stammering and Alistair has cast his eyes heavenward. Emmett gathers himself enough to ask, "Isn't that a conflict of interest?"

"No," Masen says simply.

Bella grabs at the hand curled around her hip and squeezes it between her own, waiting until Masen glances down at her to widen her eyes and raise her brows.

Meanwhile, the others are squabbling with internal discussion that, somehow, is directed at Masen without involving him at all.

"I think it is!" Peter says loudly, his tone argumentative even though nobody is disagreeing with him. "It's definitely a conflict of interest."

"Doesn't he have to file that with HR?" Emmett wonders.

"We don't have an HR department," Alistair mutters.

"We should get one!"

"I think we need one!"

"Wait, if we don't have HR, then who's doing payroll?"

"The payroll fairy, you idiot!"

"There's a payroll fair-"

"Obviously Masen is processing it!"

"Okay, well, obviously I _knew_ that and _I _was just messing with _you!_ "

"Look, Masen, what do you think? Do we need an HR department, or what?"

Masen doesn't look away from Bella when he answers, his hand twisting around to intertwine their fingers together. "Decide for yourselves," he says. "We have to go."

And then Masen takes her upstairs through a discreet door near the kitchen, both of them ignoring the quick shift from squabbling to catcalling that they leave behind. Masen bypasses the open area on the second floor and continues up another set of stairs, which opens directly to a short floorspace with a single door that has been left open. Bella hardly even sees anything of Masen's loft before the door has closed behind her and Masen has leaned down into her space, taking up all of her attention.

Bella licks her lips. "So, I'm your girlfriend?"

Masen lifts a brow. "Haven't you always been? Right from the very start, right, Swansong?"

Bella doesn't really have an answer for that, but it's hard to dispute when she knows she's been thinking of Master Culler fondly right from the first time they chatted, when she knows that some part of her has been attracted to Masen Cullen for almost two years because of how much she admires his independent software. If Masen says that, for him, it's been the same - well, then, all she can do with that is accept it and be relieved that he's been thinking about her in that way for so long.

Masen cups her cheek carefully, tenderly, a gentle stroke of his thumb just under her eye, just over where his lips had pressed only minutes earlier downstairs. "I've been trying to woo you for months," he says lowly, smiling ever-so-slightly when Bella's cheek gets even hotter under his hand.. "Do I need to try harder?"

"Masen Cullen," Bella warns shakily. "If you try any harder, I might actually die."

He huffs a laugh. "Unacceptable."

Bella blinks up at him. She feels dizzy. Are her lungs working? Is she breathing?

Answering her silent query, Masen continues. "If you die, then I can't see you anymore. Or the way you blush for me so easily." He pauses, considering. "Did you know you don't blush for anyone else?"

"I don't?"

Masen softens, almost imperceptibly except that she is _so close_ and she can see the way the tense planes of his face relax. "No, you don't," he murmurs. "It makes me privileged. I get to see what others can't. Will you forgive me for being greedy?"

Bella leans into his touch, helpless to it, swaying into him because it feels like the only thing she _can_ do. "Are you being greedy?"

"Always, with you. Selfish, too."

She lowers her gaze, feeling shy. "I don't mind. Not if it's you. I'm…the same way, for you. Greedy."

Masen hums, sounding pleased. "What do you think that means, then?"

The question is clearly rhetorical. Bella answers it anyway. "It means I can do this, too," she whispers, right before she rocks onto the tips of her toes and presses her lips against his cheek, lingering for a moment longer to really embed the feeling into her mind.

Masen is smiling gently at her when she pulls back.

It almost looks like adoration.

She turns the expression as best she can, and hopes he understands what she doesn't yet have the courage to say.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Sleep Talker  
Okay  
Now I have a boyfriend

Thorny  
Omg that's what we've been telling you

Short Cake  
Omg!  
Bella!

Paparazzi  
You couldn't even wait a month to  
make it official so I can check him out?!  
Bella  
Where's all that famous self-control!?

Sleep Talker  
I think I lost it  
Poof  
Gone

Thorny  
It's not the only thing you'll be losing

Paparazzi  
EW

Short Cake  
Lolololol

* * *

Alice is in a deliriously good mood. The second she got home from her internship, she had dragged Bella away from studying and insisted that they have a pampering session _because everything is going so good and we should look good to match!_ Bella hadn't resisted, more than happy to take a break from her schoolwork and treat herself to a few hours of relaxation.

While Bella sets her laptop up in the common room and brings up the dorm's shared Netflix account, Alice bustles around the bean bag chairs, humming a jaunty little tune as she digs out nail polish and hunts down snacks from their hidden spaces.

"Movie or binge watch?" Bella calls as Alice sorts through sheet masks in the bathroom.

"Binge!" Alice calls back.

Bella scrolls through the impressive Netflix library. They have many shows set aside on their queue, but some of them, like _Sex Education_, they only watch when the entire dorm is together. Bella is still scrolling through when Alice plops down beside her and together they pick a sweet-looking Chinese drama. Bella sets it to play, then pauses when the theme music starts, joining Alice in rifling through nail polishes, carefully painting on her first coat on her toes, and then applying the sheet mask.

Talking with a sheet mask on is always something of a challenge, but Alice still babbles happily while they paint each other's fingernails - a cheerful sky blue for Alice, a soft lilac for Bella. It's not unusual for Alice to be in a good mood, but Alice is in a _really_ good mood and Bella doesn't understand it until Alice starts on about a guy in her class, the same one she'd had that awful run-in with before.

"He's so nice now! I mean, he still brings me apology coffee every class, even though there's no reason to apologize now! And it's not just a small cup, either. He even figured out my favorite flavor without me saying anything!" Alice gushes.

"Double-shot espresso, two pumps of caramel?"

Alice giggles.

"He just figured that out?"

"Uh huh!"

"Wow," Bella laughs. "He's good."

"He really is," Alice says with a dreamy smile. "Smart, too. Like, he's obviously taking the class for the first time, but he's passing all the random quizzes. Did you know he gave me his notes? They're color coded!"

"He sounds sweet," Bella says, pleased that the guy who caused such an upset before is now one root of her friend's happiness.

"He is! He's really…" Alice trails off, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I mean, someone should tell him his glasses are _so_ last season and he could benefit from a haircut that compliments his bone structure better, but he's still so…You know?"

For once, Bella _does_ know. She understands what Alice is saying and she's happy for her friend, because Alice's naivety makes it easy to take advantage of her innocent view of the world and it sounds like this classmate of hers is doing what he can to treat Alice gently. Bella thinks it's a good sign for Alice's tender heart, should her friendship with this guy turn into something else.

"Oh! And did I tell you that I got married?"

Bella jerks in surprise, the second coat of nail polish missing her toenail completely as it smears across the top of her foot. She raises her head to stare at Alice, who is blowing on her fingernails with a pleased little shimmy.

"Yeah, in the game! I found a new player, like me. What is that called? A newbie?"

"Newb," Bella supplies faintly.

"Right! He's a newb like me, but he's actually kind of bad at the game? As in, way worse than me? I mean, I guess I have you for pointers - and thank you for teaching me how to use my sword thingy - but he's kind of hopeless," Alice giggles.

Bella shakes her head, a smile curling on her lips. "You've been so busy," Bella says in amazement. "First that guy in class, now that guy in the game."

"Totally different things!" Alice declares, face bright red. "Like, okay, Wit Monger is my friend but we only got married because of this quest and it made sense, you know?"

Bella does know. There are several quests on every level of game play that require an in-game spouse to advance further, but those also aren't the only quest options - a different quest can still level a player up, so gamers always have a choice. But she's well-aware that most players view that in-game marriages casually, trading spouses or making temporary alliances that last less than a week. She figures Alice is the same, so she nods her head, waiting for Alice to continue.

"Anyway, Wit Monger and Jasper - the guy from my class - are totally different," Alice declares in a sing-song voice. "One is my friend, and the other is my _hopefully_ more than a friend."

"I believe you," Bella laughs. "I wish you luck on both!"

Alice looks like she wants to cover her face with her hands, but remembers the mask on her face at the last second. Instead, she trills out a tinkling laugh, a smidge embarrassed, and motions for Bella to start their show.

As she and Alice settle more comfortably on the bean bag chairs, shoulders leaning together, Bella spares a moment to genuinely hope that Alice can navigate her online and offline relationships with as much luck as Bella has had.

It isn't until later that Bella wonders if the name Jasper sounds familiar.

* * *

Alice Bee **ʘ****aliceseesyou  
**Ever feel like the world just falls out from under your feet?

* * *

Ever since they met in person, Bella and Masen have continued on their previously established gaming schedule. Even though they are no longer training for a tournament, it's still fun to duel each other and take on dungeons and complete advanced quests. They meet online twice a week for this reason, and Bella is quietly pleased to learn that she is even more comfortable than before - knowing who is on the other side of the screen means that she's no longer watching her words so she doesn't slip too many details about her real life. Now, she and Masen regularly chat about their daily events while they game, and those conversations usually continue by text when they are pulled away.

Bella enjoys it a lot. It's like nothing has changed, even though _everything_ has changed. So as it is, one night a couple of weeks after she's gone on two dates with Master Culler Who Is Masen Cullen, she is about to complete a dungeon quest with him when the main dorm door slams closed, quickly followed by a thump and a clatter and a clear sound of frustrated crying.

Bella startles, and half-stands to go see what's happening before she even thinks about it. She quickly taps out a message on the private chat dialogue.

》**Swansong**: hold on

》**Swansong**: Alice just came home

》**Swansong**: I think something's wrong

》**Swansong**: brb

《 **Master Culler**: take your time, I'll be here

.

.

.

《 **Master Culler**: Bella, is everything okay?

.

.

.

《 **Master Culler**: Bella?

.

.

.

**Swansong Has Logged Off**

* * *

This Is Really Masen  
Bella?  
What happened?  
You logged off so suddenly

The Missus  
_(read at 8:49PM)_

This Is Really Masen  
Bella?

The Missus  
Masen  
Can I come over?

This Is Really Masen  
I'm sending a Lyft  
I'll be waiting for you

The Missus  
_(read at 8:51PM)_

* * *

**A/N: Oh my! I wonder what happened? Hey, don't look at me! I don't know what's going on either!  
**

**Anyway, expect the next update next Saturday!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay at home, stay inside, and stay smart - warm weather is not a reason to relax!**

**~Rae**


	32. swan (and bee) says pluto is a planet

**[YouTube Video]**

Swan (and Bee) Says Pluto Is Still a Planet!  
**ClarityIsClear  
**138k Views / Posted 2 years ago

(The camera flickers on to a face-first view of Leah Clearwater. Like always, there is a mischievousness in her expression that spells nothing but good trouble, a controlled kind of chaos. She looks at the camera with fathomlessly dark, liquid chocolate eyes, an impish slant to her mouth. The camera view itself is kind of dark, the space around her dimly lit, but still somewhat familiar to the viewers who have followed her from high school to college.

Just over Leah's shoulder is the greater common area, where electric-blue lights fizzle from television onto the bare walls. A collection of sprawled limbs and bean bag chairs are vaguely recognizable as Leah swiftly fiddles with the camera settings, zooming out for a wider view of the room - and there it is, three girls lounging in front of a laptop in various lazy sprawls.

"Hey, everyone. It's Leah Clearwater here, with another riveting expose on the life of the Swan in college!"

In the background, Bella Swan can be clearly seen rolling her eyes. She is laying upside down on one of the bean bag chairs, head tilted back to view the laptop, legs stretched up to balance on the wall. Alice Brandon, a recent addition to these videos, rests her head on Bella's stomach and waves at the camera; Rose Hale, on the other hand, doesn't stop filing her nails.

"It's Thanksgiving break," Leah Clearwater informs the viewers. "And since we're freshmen who are too poor to go home-"

"We're saving our tickets for Christmas," Bella interjects with a sigh. "It's not because we're _poor_, it's because we're…fiscally responsible."

Leah pretends not to have heard Bella, still smiling at the camera's high angle. "- And we've decided to spend a week marathoning the most iconic feminist show from our childhood since it's literally the _only thing_ we all have some knowledge about. That's right, viewers. We're binge-watching Sailor Moon."

"Not just the classic one, though," Bella says, even as Leah twists the camera to face the other three. Bella barely glances at the camera, her eyes trailing back to the laptop screen and the sparkling action happening there. "The new one too, Sailor Moon Crystal."

"To compare and contrast," Alice adds with a serious nod.

"Plus the movies," Rose chimes in. "All of them - R and S and Super S, because we all know the movies are the height of the franchise."

"We do not all know that," Bella disagrees immediately, a clear sign that this back and forth has been going on for a while.

Rose waves her nail file at Bella. "Are you really trying to tell me that Queen Beryl is a superior villain to Princess Snow Kaguya?"

Bella huffs. "Well, if we're talking about _villains_, then obviously we shouldn't be looking over Fiore-"

"There you go again, choosing the sympathetic bad guy!"

Bella sticks her tongue out smartly. Rose tsks and files her nails pointedly. Alice shrugs at the camera when Leah zooms in.

"Anyway!" Leah says loudly from behind the camera. "I don't know about you, viewers, but Bella and I spent, like, every afternoon watching Sailor Moon kick ass by moonlight, and apparently so did our new roommates. Hence, you know, bonding."

Bella shoots the camera a thumbs-up. On the laptop screen, a volley of battle cries ensues, and Leah spends a while zooming in on that, with some casual commentary about why it would be _so much better if they would just whisper their attacks instead of yelling, you know, for the stealth of it_, and one of the other girls arguing that stealth isn't the point.

"It's criminal they don't broadcast it anymore on cable," Rose says as the episode ends.

"I know, right?" Alice agrees, moving to roll onto her belly, elbows braced on the nearest bean bag chair, feet kicking behind her with excess energy.

"Kids these days are missing out," Bella laments, and the other girls laugh, telling her she sounds like an old woman. Bella huffs, and upside down her expression of annoyance is comical. "Well, they are! They don't even get to decide which Sailor Scout they would be, because they don't even know what a Sailor Scout it. I feel bad for them!"

"Who were you?" Alice asks curiously.

"Mercury," Leah says behind the screen. "But she _really_ wanted to be Sailor Pluto."

"Pluto obviously has the coolest powers," Bella informs them. "Controlling time and space? That's so useful!"

"Yeah, but Sailor Saturn is the most powerful," Rose says.

"Oh, that goes without saying," Bella agrees. "I wouldn't want her powers, though."

"The Outer Scouts do have a lot more power," Alice admits. "But I think Sailor Uranus was the most physically strong?"

"Well, yeah, but is physical strength-"

"Wait, wait!" Leah says behind the camera. "Shouldn't you only be picking from Scouts that are actually still planets? Pluto doesn't count at this point, right?"

Bella slips from her upside down recline, a graceless tumble of limbs and grey sweatpants and gapes at the camera for a moment before irritation settles in the tension of her jaw. "Are you being serious right now?" she demands.

"Leah! How could you say something like that?" Alice cries.

"To say that Sailor Pluto doesn't count just because NASA did Pluto dirty!" Bella tacks on with a shake of her head.

Rose has no input, though she does sit back and settle in to watch with a smirk.

"I don't think it was NASA," Leah argues behind the camera. "Wasn't it, like, international NASA, or something?"

"That is _so_ not the point, Leah!"

"The _nerve_ of it all - who gives them the right to declare what is and isn't a planet? And then to call Pluto a _dwarf_ planet, after years of saying it's not a planet at all?"

"It's totally heartless."

"It's unbelievable. Look at the world now," Bella prompts with raised brows. "We went and offended the planet representing the god of the underworld and now-"

Alice nods rapidly. "Yeah! Bella's right! See, this is what we get for our - our _hubris_! Thinking we could take away Pluto's status-"

"An _entire generation_ will never forget this," Bella says, truthfully according to many viewers. "We'll never forget this thing about Pluto, this - this planetary erasure, and that's why-"

"And that's why Sailor Pluto will _always_ be legit," Alice finishes cannily.

"Well," Leah says at length from behind the camera. "Alright then. I stand corrected."

Alice and Bella high-five each other. Rose nods sagely.

Leah turns the camera back around, eyebrows hiked high as she stares down the lens. "You heard it here first," she says to the viewers. "Pluto is still a planet and Sailor Pluto is the most powerful. Do you agree? Hit the comments so we can see how well the Swan and the Bee's assessment holds up!"

With that command, the screen turns dark.)

**Comments**

Yaheard  
Yeah I'm still salty af about the pluto thing, it's still a planet no question

ZomZomZombies  
Sailor Pluto's power though. Amazing. Even after all these years, she has all the fangirls.

HeartsAPlenty  
It really is dumb that Sailor Moon isn't on cable anymore! Like! It needs to be! Can we say positive female role model?

Twiiilit  
I don't disagree, but the censorship was an issue. NO WAY Uranus and Saturn were "cousins" like lol nice try but no

**Read More Comments**

* * *

**A/N: This is update 1 of 3 this weekend! Why 3? Why not! Also, because I really want to twist the knife :) What knife? Oh, you'll find out! :) :) :)**

**Now, to the subject of this interlude - Pluto (and Sailor Pluto). My generation - that is, Millenials and Gen Z - have _feelings_ about Pluto being reclassified as first not a planet and then as a dwarf planet. It's a collective outrage type of thing. Just go with it! As to Sailor Moon - well, I've been dropping in _all kinds_ of references for the whole story and Sailor Moon was a _huge_ part of my childhood. Sailor Moon being awesome is the hill I'll die on, believe me. As a note, the original seasons of Sailor Moon are currently (summer 2020) free on YouTube until further notice, because what else are you going to do during quarantine? There's _also_ supposed to be a movie released this summer in the same style of Sailor Moon Crystal (on Hulu), but who knows if it'll be postponed? You can also find all the volumes of the original Sailor Moon manga online at Miss Dream (just Google sailor moon miss dream); you can download entire books and read them online in PDF format, which is by far the easiest option. **

**Just for kicks, if you're familiar with Sailor Moon, then who do you think is the strongest scout? And then also who is your favorite? I think the physically strongest is between Jupiter and Uranus, but obviously the most powerful is a toss-up between Moon and Saturn (creation vs destruction is one hell of a debate, tbh). As to _my_ favorite...I like the romance of Sailor Moon herself, which shouldn't be surprising at all, because look at what I write! **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, and stay healthy - even if you _are_ protesting. Just wear a mask when you take down the fascists! **

**~Rae**


	33. alice's no good very bad week

**[Alice's No Good Very Bad Week]**

Alice likes working. She likes being busy and staying occupied. She knows - she's been told - that she's got the same quality as a bee, always buzzing around, full of energy. Being busy is one way to run that energy out, so it makes sense that she likes working.

If Alice stops to think about it, she'd realize that she's _always_ been working, one way or another. Between helping Mama wrangle her younger siblings, to duckling around after Granny at the old blueberry plantation every weekend, to teaching herself how to be thrifty with a needle and thread and tutoring under a local seamstress, and all the little bright spots of bursting activity that filled her childhood, Alice has been kept busy since the first time she toddled around. And she likes it that way. She's even kept it going at college as a barista, tucking away the side hustle money she needs to supplement that hard-won scholarship.

So, yes, Alice likes working and she has always been working and she will keep working, just like a little bee. It makes sense, then, that she likes her internship at Denali Corps, even if it _does_ involve a long commute three times a week. Alice just found new ways to fill that time, either studying or handcrafting something small or, recently, teaching herself all about this game she learned to love from one of her best friends.

And, _okay_, Alice knows - really, she does - that she came by this internship out of luck. The whole thing's been luck, honestly. First, she bumbles the interview and uses the wrong handle, but that somehow seems to work out. Then the internship starts and instead of gophering the gaming department, Alice was shuttled off to HR to do what is, more or less, busy work pushing piles of paper around, but that's okay too, because Alice likes it anyway because she can understand it. So, by her reckoning, she's lucked out twice for the whole thing - that she got it at all and then that she does work that matches her skillset. She even gets paid a decent wage for it too, which means she might not even have to go back to being a barista in the fall if she can squirrel away enough funds.

That's all luck. No way that isn't anything _but_ lucky. And in actual fact, Alice Brandon considers herself to be extremely lucky. She's fortunate to come from a big, loving family, she's fortunate to have gotten into a good college that has her dream degree program, and she's fortunate to have found a new home in three other girls.

Alice doesn't take a single grain of her luck for granted - whether it's accidental or not.

But while Alice is admittedly a little more naïve than her roommates, she isn't blind or dumb. She knows where she stands in the world, especially in relation to truly exceptional people like Bella, and that's why she knows luck when she sees it. Because what other explanation is there _other than luck_ that could explain how her life is working out right now?

It's all luck. But luck is a thing that turns, isn't it? Granny knows it best, and usually says so when she talks about Gramps, may his soul rest in peace. Alice knows that she - and her family - haven't always been lucky, because luck comes in turns.

Alice has been lucky for a while, now. It only makes sense that it comes crashing down eventually.

And somehow, it all starts with a throwaway conversation, one that happens in a break room over cherry strudel and iced tea that definitely isn't sweet enough, not by Mississippi standards.

It's just Alice and two other interns, both from the gaming department who have trickled down to HR to fill out some additional paperwork because they've been hand-selected to continue their internship - something about the company being headhunted to develop some new game. Alice had been the one to process their paperwork, and she'd also been the one to invite them to go ahead and take the strudel because otherwise, it's going to be thrown out.

"Too many women on too many sad diets are in HR," she'd said, all Southern charm and hospitable smile, and the other two interns had laughed.

But then they stay in the break room, electing to eat the strudel there, and that's where - in hindsight - it all starts to go wrong. Because they all start talking about how much they're enjoying their internships, and how meaningful the work experience is, and how that interview process was kind of a circus, wasn't it? And didn't they ask such interesting questions? The other boy off-handedly mentions that he's glad he had a handle to give them, and the other girl agrees.

And then Alice says, "I didn't have one at all."

The other two interns laugh. "Not a single one? Then how'd you answer the question?"

Alice laughs and speaks with unthinking honestly. "Oh, well, I just borrowed my friends! I guess she's kind of a well-known name in gaming, but she let me and my other friends borrow one of her handles. Only, I forgot which handle I was supposed to use, and accidentally used her _real_ handle instead! A very big _oops_ moment!"

The girl intern is astonished. "Really? That's crazy!"

"We figured it didn't matter, but then I got the internship and she didn't. I don't know, maybe they could tell," Alice jokes. "I did get moved to human resources instead!"

The two interns laugh because it is kind of funny in a seriously ironic way. Alice had _definitely_ lucked out with the whole thing, and even now she's a little embarrassed by her faulty memory. Although, in her defense, all those handles had been _really_ similar. And in the end, since Bella didn't seem to mind and had actually been quietly relieved about the whole thing, Alice had let go of the issue. It doesn't seem like a big deal anymore.

So when the boy intern asks what handle she used, and Alice says _Swansong_, and he starts gushing about how impressive Swansong is, Alice just smiles brightly and says how much more amazing Swansong is in person.

She doesn't think anything of it, because when has she ever had to give the truth a second thought?

But Alice had forgotten in those ten minutes that the break room isn't exactly private, and that gossip moves around Denali Corps like a rumbling earthquake. After all, the whole company knew the minute the girlfriend to the company heir had visited and spent days combing over the rumor about their alleged bickering, which could be heard throughout his entire floor.

Alice just…doesn't think anything _she_ has to say will prove noteworthy enough to be spread around.

But…Well. Alice was wrong.

* * *

Jasper W  
Are you going to be late?  
Class starts in 10

Alice B  
I'm not late!  
I'm almost there!

Jasper W  
What was it this time?

Alice B  
The library is really big!  
And I went to the wrong one first!  
But!  
I found that book you wanted

Jasper W  
Really?  
Sweet

Alice B  
I'm not just gonna give  
it away though  
I want a fair trade

Jasper W  
I already give you coffee  
And notes  
What more could you want?

Alice B  
So many things  
But first!  
Let me show you the haircuts that  
would look so much better on you

Jasper W  
This again?  
I like my hair

Alice B  
Lol  
Like it with this style instead  
(Picture Attachment)  
(Picture Attachment)

Jasper W  
Alright I'll bite  
The second one does look cool

Alice B  
I knew it!  
:D

* * *

Alice decided to try Dawn of Warcraft mostly on a lark. She was curious. Bella seems to have _so much fun_ playing it, and Alice believes in trying out anything her friends like at least once because having common interests is important. Alice figures she won't see the appeal after designing her character, which is what usually happens any time she plays the Sims, and then that'll be that. She'll have tried it, it won't spark her interest, and she'll move on.

Except that after she spends 3 hours designing her character and wading through the tutorials, Alice finds that she actually kind of enjoys the game. It's all so pretty and vivid and well thought out, almost like a real world all by itself. And, like, not to make any mistake about it, Alice is _not_ good - she's no Swansong, and she probably never will be no matter how much she plays because Bella is special, even to Alice's untrained eye.

But that doesn't mean that Alice doesn't have fun with Foresight, because she does. She's a cute, spunky little dwarf and her feet run around so _quick_ and Alice finds she enjoys learning how to toggle and perfect her aim. She levels up and finds out that she likes that sense of accomplishment, especially since each subsequent level takes more skill.

By the time Foresight runs into Wit Monger, Alice is well and truly sold on Dawn of Warcraft. She'll never be a dedicated player like Bella, but she does greatly enjoy it, enough to pay for that monthly subscription.

Wit Monger makes it twice as fun.

See, Alice didn't really understand what Bella was talking about when she said that getting married in the game wasn't a huge deal. It's not, like, _real_. Not usually. But after playing for long enough, Alice understands the logical advantage of a partnership in the game, and she also understands that having an in-game spouse opens new opportunities to level up. That's how she thinks about it too, when right off the bat she sees Wit Monger and takes the opportunity where it stands.

Wit Monger isn't any better a player than Alice, but that doesn't matter. He makes it more fun anyway, and they have such interesting conversations. Alice very quickly thinks of Wit Monger as a friend, someone she can trust and rely on, and that sees them through the struggle of learning the game together.

But then Bella's Master Culler turns into Masen Cullen, and Alice's eyes open to the possibilities of who might be sitting on the other side of the screen, scraping through level after level with her.

If Bella could find Masen, then who would Alice find? She's curious. She wants to find out. But she doesn't want to be the one to bring it up, either, and so she doesn't say anything - not about revealing their true identities, at least.

Wit Monger doesn't bring it up either.

Alice lets it rest. There's always another time, and she isn't sure that she's brave enough to know, anyway.

Not yet.

* * *

Jasper W  
What are these?

Alice B  
Glasses!  
Aren't they cute?

Jasper W  
I know what they are  
I mean to ask  
Why did you send them to me

Alice B  
Look Jazz  
Can I call you Jazz?

Jasper W  
I guess…

Alice B  
Great!  
Look Jazz, you're cute  
but you're a diamond in the rough

Jasper W  
Thanks?

Alice B  
What I'm saying is  
A few updates will shine up  
your diamond

Jasper W  
Okay…?

Alice B  
Jazz  
The glasses have to go

Jasper W  
I need them to see!

Alice B  
Then at least need a more  
stylish pair!  
Like these  
(Picture Attachment)

Jasper W

These aren't bad  
I guess

Alice B  
:D

* * *

Alice shows up at the internship on Monday, humming a dotty little tune that matches the perk in her step. She had a great weekend - she got to sleep, she has a fresh manicure and pedicure, and she and Wit Monger _finally_ beat that awful dungeon. Plus, she even woke up early enough to grab coffee for her commute, which she doesn't usually get to do.

Alice is in high spirits. Nothing can get her down.

Well. Except for that abysmally high stack of work waiting for her at her desk. When she rounds out the side of her little space and sees the veritable tower waiting for her, Alice spends a good while gawking at it, because these files are _old_ \- like, there's dust on them and everything.

One of her supervisors walks by and clucks her tongue. "You think these files are going to integrate themselves into the electronic system? Get to work."

Alice blinks rapidly. "But…what about scanning them in?"

Her supervisor shakes her head. "Afraid not. We have orders that they need to be input by hand."

"Oh. Well, alright then," Alice says quietly. "I'll just get started, then."

"When you're done with those, there are more in the storage closet down the hall," her supervisor adds, right before she sashays away in her clompy, last-season shoes.

There is a sound of snickers poorly hidden behind hands around her, and Alice can't help but think the laughter sounds a little mean.

Only a few days ago, that laughter had sounded sympathetic or genuinely amused. Alice doesn't know what happened or why it feels like _something_ has changed, but the fact remains that she has _a lot_ of work to do. And it looks like she's going to have a lot of work to do for _a while_.

But that's okay. Alice likes to work. Alice likes to be busy.

Alice likes to be _very_ busy.

When she goes back on Wednesday, the amount of work piled on her desk doesn't seem to have diminished at all. She's the only one working on these files, she knows, so she doesn't expect the pile to shrink quickly. She takes comfort in the fact that at least most of those files are different from the ones she transcribed on Monday. That's something.

Alice keeps her sprits up and keeps plowing away at the files on her desk. She gets into a rhythm, slogging away with a truly impressive amount of progress, all things considered. But by the end of the day, her fingers are aching and her coworkers still seem to have a mean-spirited laugh at her expense every once in a while.

And then, right as she is packing up to leave, _he_ shows up.

She knows his face from the interview, and from after the interview. He's good looking in a hawkish kind of way, sharp features contorted in a constant intense expression. James Denali, the heir to the company, has come to visit Alice personally.

She looks up at him from her desk, rotating her wrists to work the ache out, and James Denali peers down his nose at her. Alice sees the anger banked in his eyes and shivers, some instinct telling her she's treading into dangerous waters.

James Denali has the kind of anger like a flash flood. Alice can see it right away.

"Alice Brandon," James drawls out. Unlike the Southern drawls Alice grew up around, this one sounds mean, and alone with James since all her coworkers seem to have gone home, Alice can admit to feeling unnerved.

"That's me," she answers meekly. She's cautious like a field mouse caught still beneath the gaze of a predator.

James smiles, all teeth and too sharp to be _nice_. "Did you like the work you got to do today?"

No, Alice did _not_ like the work she was assigned, but mostly because it doesn't seem like she's made a dent. She doesn't say that, though. She nods and tries on a bright smile. "I'm learning a lot about transcribing," she offers. "Lots of…files, you know? Just…so much transcribing…"

James' face twists into a superior sneer. "I'm glad you like to waste your time, Alice Brandon. It works out great for me."

Alice furrows her brow, feeling abruptly wrong-footed. What's going on?

"Ah, I see you still don't understand." James sighs, then tilts his head, a gaze like a blade pinning her in place. "Let me clear it up for you, alright? At Denali Corps, we value integrity, even in our interns. And for employees who are caught in a lie - well, you can be sure that they'll be given a _special_ kind of work. Do you hear what I'm saying…_Swansong_?"

As James sneers his final word, it all slots into place for Alice - and _oh_, how she can feel the blood rushing away from her face, the blanche so sudden she feels dizzy with it. A terrible feeling creeps up her spine. Oh, _no_. They found out she flubbed her interview! And worse yet, it seems to _matter_ to James Denali quite a bit.

"There goes that tiny brain," James praises, a mean curl to his lip. "You get it now. I know that you aren't who you claim to be. You aren't Swansong, and now it seems too obvious. Swansong is exceptional, while you…are not. But don't worry. You can keep this little internship. I don't mind. Let it serve as a lesson while you complete this mindless drivel."

Each word is a prick, a stab, a slash.

He's right, of course. Alice isn't Swansong. And Swansong - Bella - is exceptional, while Alice is…just Alice. Plain in comparison in all the ways that matter. It's never bothered her before because Alice is confident in herself and she _knows_ that Bella would much rather be _un_exceptional.

But now…Now it hurts. It's supposed to hurt, she knows. It's supposed to send a message.

Alice drops her eyes as James walks away, the aggression of his steps making her shoulders crawl up to her ears. The message, she thinks, has been received.

Alice is no Swansong, she is no Bella Swan, and she never will be.

It's only after she's packed up, left the building, and caught the BART that it occurs to her - right when she's dashing away humiliated tears, she realizes belatedly that the only reason she even has this internship is because James, who had sat in on her interview, thought she was Swansong.

And that means that she only got the internship because someone thought she was _Bella_. It wasn't because of her glowing recommendations, her work history, her enthusiasm, or her grades. No, Alice only got this internship because of a mistakenly-given handle that isn't even hers.

Is Bella really so great?

Alice squashes the envy skittering in the back of her head. Bella _really is_ so great, even with an anonymous online persona, so it stands to reason that someone would prefer Bella to Alice. It makes sense, and there's no reason to feel envy about it. Bella is Bella; Alice is Alice. There's no changing that.

Doesn't mean it hurts any less, though.

When Alice gets back to the dorm, it's kind of quiet. Bella isn't home. It's late enough that she might be getting dinner, but she would have told Alice about it -

Oh. Right.

Bella is out with Masen Cullen tonight. They're having dinner, because they're a couple and they do that now. Bella had told her that morning that she wouldn't be back until late. Alice had forgotten.

Alice drags her feet to her room and sinks down on the bed, slumping over on the pile of clothes she keeps at the foot of her bed. Today was _awful_. Was it really only a week ago that she was dancing on clouds, happy because of how well her internship was going, how nice Jasper was being, how much fun she was having in her game? Was that _really_ only a week ago?

How quickly things can change. Now, her internship isn't something she looks forward to - she's filled to the brim with dread about going back on Friday.

Well, at least not everything has changed. Maybe the internship is going downhill, but Alice has other things, like Jasper and her online friend.

Still, she can't help but think about Bella, and about how their luck compares lately. Bella should have gotten Alice's internship - she would have, Alice knows now, if only Alice hadn't fumbled during the interview. But even without the internship, Bella is _Bella_. Pretty, perfect, Bella, with her mild manners and her modesty and her humbleness. Bella is enviable, because she has everything she wants and it seems like she doesn't even try, from her reputation to her boyfriend to that sparkling GPA and her effortless talent in _everything_.

Alice might have some luck, but Bella is _truly_ lucky.

And Alice starts to really envy her best friend.

* * *

《 **Wit Monger**: hey you didn't show up earlier

》**Foresight**: oh sorry!

》**Foresight**: I got caught up in something

》**Foresight**: I should have sent a message

《 **Wit Monger**: it's alright

《 **Wit Monger**: is everything okay?

》**Foresight**: not really

》**Foresight**: but it will be

》**Foresight**: I'm just being silly about something

《 **Wit Monger**: I'm here if you need a shoulder

》**Foresight**: I know :)

》**Foresight**: thank you :)

* * *

There's only about one and a half weeks left until the end of the summer quarter, so it makes sense that the intensity of Alice's single class is picking up. Even though she's already taken - and failed - this course, she still struggles to stay ahead of the curve. History simply is not her forte, but she needs this class for her degree.

At least she's not taking all new classes like Bella. Although Bella is acing all of her classes this summer quarter. Because _of course_ she is.

Alice tries to keep her spirits up when she eases into class on Thursday, because a positive attitude can go a long way according to Granny, and Granny is almost always right. But it's hard to have high spirits when she's still reeling from yesterday's events and when she's swimming in the guilt of having accidently stood Wit Monger up - and that's not even counting the swifter-moving, lower-reaching ebb of guilt she feels over the little green monster sitting on her shoulder.

Alice spots Jasper and makes a bee-line for him in one of the back rows. He's frowning down at his phone, which really isn't unusual at all, but he's brought coffee for her again and she can't help beaming at him as she slips into the seat beside him. She studies his profile for a moment as she sips on the sweet, icy drink, taking in the curl of blond hair around his ears and the way his glasses make him look so much more serious despite the fact that he's younger than her by maybe two years.

He really is good-looking, isn't he? Even with these unflattering glasses and all that hair falling into his face. It makes Alice feel all fluttery inside, a feeling that has been growing since he first apologized to her. He has the potential to be a very decent man, she thinks.

Maybe…

"So, what has you so chipper today?" Alice asks, blithe as she ducks just a scant inch closer, trying to see what's captured his attention so much.

Jasper doesn't answer for a moment, but when he does, it's with a sigh. "Lost opportunity," he answers, and as he does, his phone screen becomes visible from Alice's angle.

Oh.

Alice feels abruptly chilled, sticking with cold sweat, a shiver that traces from the top of her head down to the base of her spine. Her lungs feel frozen. She has no idea what her face is doing, but she can imagine that she looks exactly as stricken as she feels. She has a very expressive face. Lots of people have told her so. She's probably broadcasting the _exact_ combination of cold dread and disappointment and dismay and mortification.

Because right there on the screen of Jasper's phone - Jasper, who was so nice to her now and made her laugh and she thought could maybe, someday, hopefully, be _more_ than just a friendly classmate - is an article on the Cardinal Trees blog. It's another story about Bella and Masen, this time a teasing little expose capturing the sweet lingering moment from last night when Masen, yet again, dropped Bella off at the dorm after a date.

Jasper read this article. Jasper read this article and thought _lost opportunity_.

Hysteria slithers through Alice's mind. Of course. _Of course_ Jasper likes Bella. Who doesn't? Bella is incredibly likable. Alice knows it.

Still. It's just…

Alice spools composure around her like a shroud. Act normal. He's just a boy. He might have liked Bella before, but she has a boyfriend now and he knows it. So, it's okay. Really. It's fine.

"Well…There's always more fish in the sea?" she tries.

Jasper rubs at the back of his head. "Yeah, sure. I mean, I'm not _mad_ or anything, but I had been trying to get closer to her for a while-"

This is news to Alice.

"-and she did tell me before, during the spring quarter, that she liked this Masen guy, so I guess I should have seen it coming, but-"

Alice stares at Jasper while he rambles on, explaining how the news is more frustrating than anything else, not really hearing him. Because she's just learned _two_ new things.

One, Jasper had been trying to move in on Bella, which isn't shocking because boys do that all day every day for Bella. It's a little shocking to hear it directly from his mouth, but again, not…too surprising.

The second part, though, really shakes her. Bella and Jasper had talked at least once, and at least long enough that Jasper learned personal information. Alice doesn't doubt for a second that, if this conversation _was_ during the spring semester, way before Bella and Masen were a thing, that Bella devised that bit of bait to shake Jasper off her tail. Which apparently hadn't worked? Or maybe it had?

Alice doesn't know. She really doesn't know.

"-but I guess hindsight is twenty-twenty," Jasper finishes with a gusty sigh.

"That's too bad…" Alice musters a smile,

"I should have seen it coming," Jasper admits, ducking his chin.

"A little foresight goes a long way," Alice agrees.

"Foresight…"

Alice tilts her head. "Yeah! Foresight! You know, like, predicting what will happen in the future? I'm all about foresight, you know? You have to see the writing on the wall, even if the writing is less than spectacular. Don't you agree?"

Jasper doesn't answer. Instead, Jasper turns to her with a certain look in his eye, one that is piercing and burning and holds Alice right in place. It's the second time she's been looked at that way this week, and she likes it even less when Jasper does it.

"Alice…" Jasper pauses, the silence hefty as early bird students continue to filter into the lecture hall. "Are you Foresight?"

Alice gapes at Jasper. "I play Dawn of Warcraft under that handle," she says with some amazement. "How did you know?"

Jasper returns her look of amazement with one of resentment. He scoffs at her. "How did I know? We've only been playing together all month! I can't believe this-"

"Wait!" Alice interjects breathlessly. "Wait, are you Wit Monger?"

Jasper pinches his lips together, and at the same time starts gathering his class materials into his messenger bag, hasty and unkempt in a way he usually isn't. "Some Wit Monger I am," he gripes, shooting her a mean sort of look. "I go in for Swanning, and wind up with you. If I hadn't been so distracted, maybe I could have-"

The early buds of Alice's giddiness are cut away in the next breath.

Alice is admittedly a carefree spirit, but she's smart enough to have gotten into one of the top-rated schools in the country on a scholarship, so she isn't exactly without deductive skills.

And it is painfully easy to put two and two together, now. She has all the facts.

Jasper likes Bella.

Bella likes Masen, and she tells this to Jasper to derail him.

Jasper still likes Bella, so he figures the best way to get close to her is with her interests.

Jasper figures out one of Bella's handles - the Twitch one, the one she only uses once a week - and goes into the game to find her.

Jasper finds Foresight instead.

Jasper forms an in-game marriage with Foresight, for what reason Alice isn't sure. She knows she did it because it opened fun new routes for gameplay. Jasper, she understands now, must have only done it to bide his time until Swanning popped up.

And now that Jasper knows that _Alice_ is Foresight, he doesn't seem thrilled. He seems the opposite, really, and it's a fatal kick to her feminine pride, which has been crushed beneath the heel of her envy over Bella.

But…maybe…

"But isn't it good that we know each other now?" Alice whispers.

Jasper doesn't say anything, just keeps stuffing his book into his thin bag, and maybe that should be answer enough. But sometimes Alice doesn't know when to quit, and right now, seeing how he is, she wants to _hold on_ to something.

So she keeps talking. Like a fool.

"I mean, I know Bella is with Masen now, but I'm sure she'd still want to be friends! She loves gaming, and making friends in the game, and if she knew you were wanting to play with her, I bet she would help you level up and-"

"You talk like you know her," Jasper cuts in tersely. "Do you? Do _you_ know Bella Swan?"

_Everyone does_, Alice wants to say. But what escapes her mouth instead is this:

"She's my roommate."

Jasper throws his head back and laughs. But it's not nice laughter. It's mocking, maybe directed at himself, even if his words are not. "Of course you are! You just - you just pop up everywhere I don't want you! It's like a talent or something!"

Alice is stung. It hurts to hear because they are words that are meant to be hurtful. All the same, the message is there, clear as day and heard by almost every student in the lecture hall, whose heads swivel to stare back at this loud, one-sided confrontation.

Jasper likes Bella, so he isn't happy to learn that not only has Alice - apparently - stood in the way of his online pursuit, but that Alice had been his foot in the doorway the entire time.

And now that Bella is no longer available, and all these truths are coming out at once, Jasper is lashing out. Alice just happens to be the target, because she's there and she's involved, no matter how unwittingly.

Knowing all of this doesn't make his reaction hurt any less. Actually, it might be worse, because it really twists the knife that it's not _Alice_ he wants - not online and not in real life.

So, is it any wonder when she cries? Is it any surprise that she takes the iced coffee he bought her and upends it on his stupid head? Is it any reason she takes up her bag and high-tails it away from the scene of her humiliation, throwing mean words of her own over her shoulder?

"You're a jerk!" she cries out. "A huge jerk! You don't deserve any happiness! And I hope your shirt stains, you stupid jerk!"

It's not the greatest of scorned-woman tirades, but Alice is not Rose or Leah and she cannot summon a scathing retort at the drop of a hat. Alice is Alice, and Alice is woefully underwhelmed by the way the world has received her this week, so she calls Jasper the name that fits - jerk - and runs away.

Alice cries as she runs through campus, eventually stopping under a large tree in a random courtyard. Later, she might be totally mortified by the way her anger and jealousy and grief rip out of her lungs, too loud for public - but right now, sobbing her emotions out seems like the only thing she _can_ do.

She's so…

Sad. Worse than sad. Disappointed, maybe, and just _hurt_.

Alice stays under that tree, crying intermittently, until evening falls and she summons the willpower to drag herself back to her dorm. It isn't until the dorm door shuts closed with a bang that Alice realizes she's taken herself back to the source of _all_ her _problems_.

She is crying when Bella scurries into the room, concern etched on her perfect heart-shaped face, and only cries louder when Bella folds her into a comforting hug.

Jealousy creeps back up again.

Bella. Bella. Bella. It always comes back to Bella!

Alice's internship is because of Bella!

Alice finding Wit Monger is because of Bella!

She's sure even Jasper deciding to be nice is _somehow _tied back to Bella.

And Alice has had just enough of Bella - but more than that, she's had enough of being compared to Bella and found lacking!

Alice is Alice! Alice can't be Bella, and she would very much like for everyone to stop _reminding _her of it!

"You!" Alice cries out. She wiggles away, jealousy and misplaced anger gripping her close even as she waves a finger at Bella's confused expression. "It's all your fault! Why do you have to be so…so…So _Bella_ all the time! There's not enough air in the room for the rest of us!"

"Alice, what are you-?"

"It can't be enough that you're the prettiest and the smartest, is it? You have to be the most talented, too! You have to be the one that everyone wants!"

"I don't understand! What are you talking about?" Bella demands, olive eyes wide as she watches Alice spiral through a breakdown.

"I'm talking about _you_ and how I'm _so sick_ of not measuring up to you! You're Bella Swan! You already have everything, but it doesn't matter! You get to have _more_ than you need, you even get to have the things you don't want! And me? What do I get?" Alice laughs mirthlessly. "I get tricked and punished for just _being there_! I get to be compared to you and I get to wallow in your glorious shadow!"

Bella's face reddens. "I don't know what you're talking about!" she says loudly, not quite a shout but near enough. "If you would just tell me what has you so upset, I could-"

"You! I'm upset about _you!_" Alice cries out. "I'm upset that I'm not you! And I never will be! And today I found out that whatever I am is not enough! You still get to win no matter what I do!"

"Alice-"

"I can't even look at you anymore!" Alice shouts, squeezing her eyes shut and turning away. "I don't want to be around you! I don't want to be reminded how inadequate I am! I'm done with being compared with you! Done!"

Bella doesn't say anything. The room is filled with Alice's crying and Bella's quiet breaths, and it goes on like that for a while.

Eventually, though, Bella does speak, and when she does, her voice is muted, careful. She talks the same way Mama does when she's trying not to spook one of the feral cats in the neighborhood.

"You don't need to worry about me anymore, then," Bella says quietly. "I'll just go. You can stay and I'll go, and then you won't have to be around me. Okay?"

Alice keeps crying, but now the tears are about something else. She just doesn't have the words to put together what they're about, exactly, but she knows that these tears are different.

Even though she's not looking, Alice can very clearly hear the distinct click of Bella's laptop closing and the rustle of clothes being shoved into a backpack and the shuffle of feet on the floor. Alice listens as Bella walks to the door, pauses, and says, "I'm sorry, Ali, for whatever it was I did…"

And then Bella leaves, a soft click of the door the only sound of her departure, and Alice crumples down in the middle of the common room.

She knows what these new tears are, now.

Regret.

Oh, Alice _regrets_ so much what she just said to her innocent best friend -

But with those words out in the world, Alice doesn't know if they can ever be taken back.

The irony of the whole thing is awful - because just like Jasper, Alice lashed out at someone who didn't deserve a lashing. Bella is innocent in all of this, a mere bystander, and Alice is awful for intentionally hurting her.

Alice can only cry harder.

* * *

Jasper W  
Can we talk?  
In person?  
I want to apologize

Alice B  
Forget about it  
Don't talk to me anymore

Jasper W  
Alice  
Come on  
Just hear me out  
Alice?  
Alice?  
Please Alice?

Alice B  
(_read 2:21AM)_

* * *

Jasper W - **Edit Contact**

Name: Jasper W

Nickname: Jerkface

_Display nickname as contact name_ \- **Yes**

Alice, curled up in bed, alone in the dorm suite that seems too quiet now, lets her phone fall onto the floor, She turns over in bed, hugs her knees to her chest, and squeezes her aching eyes closed.

_What would Granny say about any of this_?

Alice doesn't have to speculate for long. Granny would be so ashamed of Alice's behavior - maybe almost as ashamed as Alice.

* * *

**A/N: Post 2 of 3 this weekend. Ah, I actually have the perfect meme for this entire chapter and it involves Baby Yoda. How many are sympathetic to Alice? How many are angry about Jasper aka Jerkface? What's going to happen with Bella? Stay tuned! **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, stay inside. And stand by each other.**

**~Rae**


	34. swan and bee gang up on me

**[YouTube Video]**

Swan and Bee Gang Up on Me!  
**ClarityIsClear  
**122k Views / Posted 7 Months Ago

(It's immediately obvious once the camera view shifts that the videographer is not ClarityIsClear; for one, the image is lopsided, too high and amateurish, and second, Leah Clearwater is too busy being dragged around to be operating the camera. Whoever is taking this video is obviously walking backward, the frame bumping along at a steady pace to get a forward-first view of the scene.

It's obviously winter, near the holidays, as evidenced by the twinkling lights strung around lamp posts and store windows, as well as the way the three girls in the frame are all decked in wintry gear, scarves and hats and noses nipped by the cold. Leah Clearwater is in the middle, her expression alternating between sulking glares and unenthused grimaces, her arms crooked at the elbows as she is physically shuttled down the sidewalk. On her left is Alice Brandon, whose diminutive height and slight figure make for a comical imbalance as she strains and wheedles, both of her arms locked around Leah's. On Leah's left is Bella Swan, who looks as placidly unruffled as usual, a slight smile on her face and her elbow locked firmly around Leah's, her other hand reaching up to pat Leah's head consolingly.

Leah ducks away, expression twisting resentfully. "Don't touch me, you traitor!"

"Oh, now I'm a traitor," Bella says mildly. "Two streets ago I was _scum of the earth_. I think I'm moving up. What do you think, Ali?"

"I think Leah's feeling a little gru-mpy," Alice sing-songs with a beaming smile.

"I agree!"

"I fucking don't," Leah snaps.

She is ignored by Alice, who leans around Leah to say, "But that's why we decided to take her out, right? To cheer her up!"

Bella's eyes dance. "That's right. We all know a grumpy Leah is a stressed Leah, and we don't want Leah to be stressed."

Leah curls her lip. "You want to know why I'm stressed? It's because you _bitches_ decided to _kidnap me_ when I was in the middle of _studying_!" she hisses, straining against their firm hold around her arms. "Let me go! I - wasn't - _finished_ -"

Bella sighs. "The books will be there when you get back. A break isn't going to kill you."

"Yeah! Don't worry, honey," Alice soothes with a tinkling drawl. "You've been studying a week straight. A break will do you good!"

"I don't want a break! I want to pass my finals!"

"Leah," Bella says with some exasperation. "If you studied any more, you'll have the books memorized."

Leah narrows her eyes. "That's the _point_."

Bella stares. "Is the point to also have a stress-induced breakdown at 20, because from what I can see, that's what you've been trying to do all week."

Behind the camera, a mellow female voice chimes in. "She's right, you know. And have you seen the bags under your eyes, babe? You look tired."

Leah glares at the camera. "Shut up, Rose. And for fuck's sake, at least hold my camera right!"

Rose shifts the camera, but the angle gets more lopsided. "I am holding it right," she asserts.

Leah scoffs. "I can tell that the whole thing is crooked. Are you even recording? Who told you how to turn the damn thing on?"

"Bella."

Leah rolls her eyes. "Of _course_ she did. Because Bella is a _traitor_."

Bella smiles serenely and ignores her sister. "I heard they're doing a tree lighting ceremony today. Do you think we'll miss it?"

"Oh! No! We're right on time!" Alice says happily. "See, I looked it up before we left. We have enough time to get some hot chocolate and walk around a bit before it starts."

"That's great. Ah, and look there," Bella says, nodding her chin at something behind the camera. "There's the hot chocolate stand. How convenient."

Leah is seething. "Don't play innocent, Swan. I know you planned it. This has your goody-two-shoes stamp all over it. I'm not surprised Alice joined in, either." Leah then looks at the camera, or rather, Rose Hale behind the camera. "But _you_! Where's your sense of loyalty? I can't believe you let them do this to me!"

Rose laughs and the camera shakes. "What, like I was supposed to go against these little angels? Do you know how scary nice people are when they get angry? I wasn't about to stand in the way."

Leah sputters. "You're a traitor, too!"

"You sound mad," Rose says, sounding awfully amused herself.

"Let me go! I want to fight her!" Leah struggles unsuccessfully.

Alice titters. "Fighting is against dorm rules!" Alice chirps. "We took an oath! Roommates are not allowed to feud or hold grudges! Roommates are sisters and sisters only bicker!"

"I don't care about the stupid oath or the dumb rules!" Leah snarls.

"But we pinky promised!" Alice protests.

"Yeah," Rose says blandly. "We pinky promised."

"Screw the pinky promise!" Leah rages.

Bella's smile thins, just a bit. "You know, with an attitude like that, I wonder if all your textbooks _will_ be where you left them when we get back."

Leah's face slackens. "Are you…are you holding my books _hostage_?"

"Oh, I'm not doing anything," Bella says.

Alice giggles, leaning her chin on Leah's shoulder to bat her eyes. "Actually, _I'm_ the only one who knows where the books are…and you know how easily I lose things…"

Leah twitches, looking between the two of them with slow-dawning realization. "You little schemers," she breathes. "This is a whole _plot_. You've conspired against me!"

This time Bella is able to successfully pat Leah's head. "It's for your own good. You're too stressed. You won't do well on your exams if you've driven yourself crazy studying."

"Plus, you've been working so hard all semester, taking that extra class. You deserve a break!" Alice adds brightly.

Leah furrows her brow. "…Are you also responsible for my Mr. Clean disappearing?"

Bella and Alice share a confused look. "What? Why…would we steal your cleaning supplies?"

There's an indelicate snort off-screen.

"That was me," Rose says behind the camera, ignoring the look of outrage Leah shoots her. "I couldn't take another day of your stress cleaning. The fumes were getting to my head. You'll get your precious balding scrub buddy back _after_ finals."

Leah is speechless.

"This is because we love you, sis," Bella says softly after a moment. "You need a break."

Leah deflates, her arms visibly relaxing, her shoulders slackening. "…Take me to the tree, or whatever."

"Hot chocolate first!" Alice cheers with a little shimmy.

"And some of whatever smells so _good_ over there," Bella adds.

"It smells fried," Rose sniffs disdainfully.

"That's why it's delicious," Bella says primly.

Leah cracks a smile.

The video ends.)

**Comments**

HeartsAPlenty  
LOL swan and bees face at 6:43 they're like, "there's another conspiracy?!"

Twiilit  
This is the wholesome content I'm here for

YaHeard  
No but nice people are scary af when they get mad so I don't blame RH at all

Korral  
Wait but did you get your books back?

**ClarityIsClear  
**I did get them back. I also aced my finals. Bella was right, but don't tell her I said so.

**thelittlecygnet  
**Too late! :)

**View More Comments**

* * *

**A/N: 3 of 3! Just gonna drop it here for context and continue working on the next update - chapter 17 takes us back to Bella and _should_ be uploaded next Saturday. Thanks for sticking with the character development bits!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, stay home, and stand together. **

**~Rae**


	35. chapter 17

**[chapter_17]**

They aren't supposed to fight.

Little spats here and there, disagreements over tiny things, jibes over hogging the bathroom - these are all things that are typical, easily forgiven. But they aren't supposed to _fight_. Not like this. There is an oath, sealed by a pinky promise, that all of them should rise above the petty, catty in-fighting that can happen with female friendships. They live in the same dorm; they should be friends, close friends, as close as sisters. Until now, they've all followed this promise, because no matter how much they bicker, it's always nothing that can't be forgiven in an instant.

It's never anything that can cause truly hurt feelings.

And yet here Bella is, standing at the western entrance to campus in the early evening, waiting for a Lyft to pick her up and take her to the only source of comfort she can think of. Because her feelings are definitely hurt and one of her best friends can't even _look_ at her, and Bella is at a loss of what to do except for leave.

Deescalating the situation is always the smart thing to do. It's a piece of advice from Charlie Swan that Bella has kept rooted in the back of her mind - stay calm and do not escalate a conflict. There are always other ways.

Maybe Bella will be able to think of other ways when she's less confused and bruised and shaken. But as of right now, all Bella can think about is the way Alice cried, the way Alice spoke with so much shrieking rage, the way Alice's shoulders hunched forward as she turned away and said she was _done_.

Bella doesn't understand what just happened, but she does know that the promise the four of them made during freshman year has been broken - because what just happened is unmistakably a fight and not one that can just be forgiven.

Did Bella do something wrong? What _happened_ to make bright, cheery Alice be so heartbroken? What made her turn on Bella like that, like a wounded animal?

Bella doesn't know. It's all she can do to hold back the burn of tears as the Lyft picks her up and takes her to Masen's building. She hugs her hastily packed bags to her chest, fingers digging into fabric, and tries to focus on the questionable music taste of the driver. There is rain outside, a steady drizzle that dibbles down the window. She watches the rain and listens to the radio and tries to do anything other than _think_.

It works until the ride ends and Bella has to crawl out of the backseat and meet Masen's steady gaze. He scans her head to toe, assessing, and she isn't sure what it is he sees, but whatever it is makes his jaw clench. She has enough grace left to withhold her sob until the Lyft rumbles away, but as soon as it does, her bags are dropped at her feet as she falls face-first into Masen's chest, shaking with the force of her grief.

His hands move, one gently cupping the back of her head, supporting the way she tries to tuck herself even closer, the other falling to the curve of her waist, a loose hold that anchors her in place. Bella shudders through another sob, her fingers curling into his shirt, which is damp from the rain.

"Bella? What happened?" he murmurs, lips at her ear.

Bella shakes her head and holds on tighter. She doesn't have the words right now, doesn't know how to explain a fight that was more like a one-sided tantrum, a bursting dam of resentment. Her mouth can't seem to move, to make the motions of an explanation.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, and again, all she can manage is a shake of her head, forehead pressed against the crook of his neck.

Masen's chest moves up and down, a deep motion, something like a sigh. He says nothing, simply continues to hold her to his chest. Around them, the rain picks up, falling harder as the evening light stretches into the blue-black of nighttime. And still, Masen holds her, occasionally stroking the length of her sodden hair.

The silent, steady presence is more comforting than she could have ever guessed. If Bella had gone to Leah, her sister would have blown into a righteous tirade that, while validating, would have only stressed Bella out more; Rose might have sneered something about wasting tears; and Jake, in the past, has panicked and supplied a tub of ice cream, because he's an emotional eater and he knows she can be, too.

But Masen just holds her, and breathes, and gives her time to calm down. Pressed against his chest like this, she can't help but think she's never felt _so safe_. Not untouchable, but certainly secure. She has such trust in him and she knows he'll catch her if she falls, and he'll support her first steps, and he'll just _be there._ No demands, no pressure, no judgment. Just an immobile, unflappable presence, a patient statue of a man that moves only when it pleases him, and can use that remarkable constancy to hold her steady.

Bella becomes pliable in his arms, the tension unwinding from her spine one vertebrae at a time. She breathes steadier as the sobs subside, her grip on him slackening. Her face still feels hot and her nose tingles, but she feels better. Or at least less upset, probably because crying that much is exhausting. She finally notices the chill of the rain sinking into her skin and shivers, huddling closer to Masen for a different reason.

"Let's go inside," he says softly, pulling back just enough to see her face. His brow knits, his hand tenderly cupping one side of her face, thumb brushing under her eye to wipe away tears and rain.

Bella nods, sniffling, and follows meekly after Masen, who carries her bags in one hand and has his own closed securely around her own. The main door for the building has been left open the whole time, and Bella tries not to feel bad about the puddle she ends up dragging inside. Masen doesn't seem bothered by it at all. He lets go of her hand briefly, just long enough to lock the door behind them and key in the security code. And then he leads her through the dimly-lit lobby, past the darkened workspace lit by only neon lights, and up to the stairwell. Because she has already been this way before, she doesn't pay attention to anything other than the broad, square shape of Masen's shoulders or the lightness of his steps. There are some noises from the second-floor apartments, but the common area is empty so there is nobody to comment on the casual way Masen takes her up to his loft. Just like the main door downstairs, Masen's loft door has been left open, and just like downstairs, he only lets go of her hand to close the door.

When he takes her hand again, Masen runs a critical eye over her water-logged appearance, then at the wet bags full of her clothes and other possessions. She hopes that her ivory laptop bag, which is also holding her important texts right now and is tucked in the middle of the larger tote, made it through mostly dry. It's supposed to be waterproof. Bella guesses she'll find out soon.

"You need to get warm," Masen decides. He tugs gently on her hand, towing her to a room she had missed the first time she was up here. It's a sliding frosted glass door, stylized as a shoji screen, and Masen opens it to reveal the bathroom. He drops her hand and steps back, urging her into the space. "I'll get you clothes to borrow. Take your time."

Bella slides the door shut and surveys the bathroom. It's square with matte charcoal tiles and white grout on the floors, and a standing glass shower made with alternating clear and frosted glass, and the toilet tucked behind a half-wall, a single-window high on the far wall. The space is clean, one shelf neatly lined with a sparse collection of razors, shaving cream, amber-colored cologne in a square bottle, the other holding a stack of white washcloths, a toothbrush holder, and a toothpaste pump. He has a towel rack with two precisely folded white towels and a black cotton robe on the back of the door. The sight of the robe makes her smile slightly.

The mirror is equally as spotless, but it's unforgiving in the honest reflection it shows. The lighting in the bathroom is good enough that Bella gets a very clear look at the mess she makes. Her eyes are rimmed pink and swollen, their green shade standing out in a vibrant, bright contrast, her nose red, the rest of her skin pallid. With her hair plastered to her scalp from the rain and her clothes wet, she estimates herself to look like a half-drowned rat.

And it isn't that she particularly _cares_ that she looks exactly as distressed as she feels, because having emotions is nothing to be ashamed of, and she doesn't think Masen cares that much what she looks like right now, either - but there is something deeply mortifying about breaking down into such little pieces in front of him, something embarrassing about leaning on him so heavily so soon. They've only been on four official dates. They've never kissed. And now she's gone and invited herself over, had a breakdown all over him in the rain, and now stands in his bathroom with instructions to get warm, because he's taking care of her like she's a damsel in distress.

Because that's what she is - she's in distress.

Because something happened to Alice, something that made her blow up like a cherry bomb right in Bella's face.

Bella turns away from the mirror, resolute. She can't think about that right now. Her teeth are starting to chatter, so she needs to get warm. She fiddles with the knobs in the shower until water pitter-patters onto smooth tile, and then, with a blush rising on her face, she quickly gets undressed, steps into the water, and closes the glass door firmly behind her. She almost can't believe that she's in Masen's shower, washing with Masen's soaps - they all smell of cinnamon and sandalwood with undercurrents of vanilla - and using up his hot water. But she is and her skin is glowing pink under the heat of the spray, and suds are spiraling around her feet, so it's all real. And it's still real when she steps out of the shower and dries off with Masen's towel and wrings her hair out before wrapping it up. She hesitates for a moment, naked in the middle of his bathroom, and then reaches for his robe, which smells richly of his heady cologne.

Knotting the belt tightly and holding the neckline closed, because it gapes around her slender shoulders, Bella eases the bathroom door open and pokes her head out into the loft. "Masen?" she calls softly.

There's a noise from the direction of the kitchen, which is not in sight of the bathroom. Masen circles into view a moment later, brushing his hands on his shirt. He sees her and clears his throat, and to her muted delight she notices that the tips of his ears become pink right before he lifts his eyes and looks off into the middle-distance, pointedly _away_ from Bella.

"Clothes?" she prompts, her face hot.

"Shelf," Masen answers stiffly.

Bella leans out just a little more and, yes, right there on the shelf by the bathroom door is a bundle of clothes. She reaches for them and tosses out her thanks before ducking back into the bathroom, her heart rabbiting in her chest. Bella trades the robe for silvery basketball shorts, which droop on her hips and fall to her calves and have to be pulled in tight with the drawstring. The shirt is no better, a plain white crewneck that hangs loosely on her frame, the collar gaping around her neck. Bella raises a brow at the mirror. Masen is taller than her, she knows, but is he really so much broader? Apparently, he is. She isn't exactly dwarfed by his clothes, because he's built lean and lithe, but the difference in their frames is unmistakable.

She feels small, both in mind and body, when she emerges from the bathroom, wet clothes rolled together with a towel on her head. She ventures to the narrow kitchen, spying Masen fussing with a kettle and two cups of tea. He glances up at her as she enters, takes in her burden, and says, "You can put those by the door. I'll toss them in the dryer with your other things if you want."

"I'll sort it out, then," Bella replies. She scuttles off to the front of the loft to do exactly that. For the most part, while the outside of the bags is certainly wet, only a few clothes are damp and her laptop bag is bone-dry. She makes a pile, then finds a place to hang-dry her bags, and then carries her laptop bag into the living area, tucking it beside the low couch. By the time she's done, the kettle in the kitchen is singing.

Taking a seat at the breakfast bar, she watches him remove the kettle from the stove and place it beside the two cups on the stone countertop. He scoots a mesh wire basket of tea packets over to her, a silent request, and she plucks out the Yogi bedtime blend. Masen wordlessly brews two cups, then gestures to a jar of honey with a raised brow.

Bella nods, because she isn't picky about sweetening tea, and wonders at the presence of a bedtime tea blend in Masen's collection. He has quite a few blends, actually. He must drink tea quite a bit. She wouldn't have expected it, but she can see now how it makes sense - Masen looks so calm as he prepares the tea as if the very motions are soothing.

How frequently does he need the bedtime blend? What is it that keeps Masen up at night? Bella tucks these new questions away, certain that she will find the answer eventually. Now really isn't the time.

Masen bides his time until they have both sipped at the tea before he brings up the elephant in the room. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Bella sighs, tracing a finger over the rim of her cup. "But I feel like I owe you an explanation, showing up here like this."

"You owe me nothing," Masen says firmly. He places his mug on the counter, leaning toward the breakfast bar to catch her eyes. "If you want to talk about it, then that's fine. But you don't have to tell me anything unless you want to."

Bella bites her lip, dropping her eyes to the murky tea. "Alice, my roommate, and I had a fight. Or, well, _Alice_ had a fight and I was a convenient punching bag. I'm…not sure what it was about, really."

"Ah."

"She said some hurtful things," Bella continues with a frown. "She said she didn't want to be compared to me anymore, that she couldn't even stand to look at me…And I don't understand any of it. I don't know what happened or why she said those things. I'm not sure where it came from. And she didn't want to talk about it, and she was so upset…So I thought, well if I leave, maybe she'll be able to calm down. And…here I am."

Masen's mouth is pulled into a terse line. "I see."

It's obvious to Bella that he's displeased, but he doesn't seem intent to vocalize it, which she's glad for. She isn't looking for an opinion, because it's really a thing between herself and Alice, and she doesn't need advice either, because she already knows that she and Masen have vastly different approaches to problem-solving. But the fact that he does restrain himself from speaking is appreciated. It shows a lot of wisdom and demonstrates how well he already knows her.

Bella polishes off her tea. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

"Mm," Masen hums in agreement. "You can have the bed."

"The couch is fine," she says quickly. "I don't want to put you out of your bed."

The corner of Masen's mouth tips up and his gaze drops briefly to her lips, her neck, any part of her he can see over the breakfast bar. "Believe me, the couch is fine for me."

Bella doesn't miss the implication, the unspoken words, and flames rise on her cheeks. She slips off the metal stool, finding her feet with a small stumble. "Oh. Well, I'll just…" Bella's feet carry her backward, toward the back of the loft and the wide sliding doorway to the bedroom. "Goodnight!" she calls over her shoulder, flustered and flushed.

She _thinks_ she can hear Masen quietly chuckling in the kitchen as she slides the door shut. She tells herself she's too tired to be teased, so she ignores Masen and any thoughts about Masen's silent implications and gingerly lays down on his bed, wraps herself up in his blanket, and tucks her limbs close to her body.

Sleep doesn't come easy, but with the sound of the rain pattering on the roof just overhead, sleep does come - restless and troubled but sleep nonetheless.

She hopes for a better tomorrow.

* * *

**Turing Is Our Hero (Group Chat)**

Peter Panda  
So  
Did anyone else see anything  
interesting last night?

Em Likes Pi  
For the last time pete  
We don't need to talk about  
the kind of porn we watch

Peter Panda  
Wow okay  
First of all, don't kinkshame me  
Second of all, that's not what I mean  
I'm talking about the visitor

Em Likes Pi  
Visitor?  
Like an alien  
Or like a parasite?  
Man I told you those tacos looked  
sketchy as hell

Peter Panda  
I don't have a parasite  
Wtf

Em Likes Pi  
Yeah that's what they all said in Alien  
But then look what happened

Peter Panda  
You know what fuck you

Squidward  
It's too early for this shite  
What are you on about  
What visitor

Peter Panda  
Oh rite!  
So last night, when I was eating my  
Not Sketchy tacos, I saw a thing  
A Bella Swan visiting Masen in the  
dead of night thing  
They were cuddling in the rain and  
everything

Squidward  
Disgusting

Em Likes Pi  
Tell me more!

Peter Panda  
Okay well idk what was going on  
but Bella came in the building  
And she did not leave  
Which means she's still here  
Because she slept over

Em Likes Pi  
Damn Mase has game

Squidward  
Where's the proof

Peter Panda  
Are you calling me a liar?!

Squidward  
Yes

Peter Panda  
Okay fair  
But I got you  
You want proof?  
Check the lack of nagging for us to  
start working  
It's a weekday and Mase isn't cracking  
the whip  
Highly suspect if you ask me

Em Likes Pi  
I'm inclined to agree  
But it does seem circumstantial

Squidward  
Yet compelling

Peter Panda  
You both sound too skeptical  
I can get more proof

Em Likes Pi  
Oh be my guest

Peter Panda  
_Mad Hatter  
__Mad Hatter  
__Mad Hatter_

Squidward  
Right to the source

Em Likes Pi  
It takes balls  
I respect the hell out of this  
Also rip pete in advance

Peter Panda  
_Mat Hatter  
_Come out and play!  
I can hear you moving around up there

Em Likes Pi  
Classy

Peter Panda  
Fuck off  
_Mad Hatter  
__Mad Hatter_

Mad Hatter  
What

Peter Panda  
Bro!  
Mase my best bro!  
Tell them the truth!

Em Likes Pi  
You have to specify pete  
Masen doesn't read the backlog

Peter Panda  
Oh rite!  
Okay  
Well I saw a thing last night  
And I need you to confirm  
Did you get lucky?

Mad Hatter  
Ah  
I see

Peter Panda  
Mase!  
That's not an answer!  
I know Bella is up there  
I saw her with my own two eyes!  
She's still here right?  
Right?

Mad Hatter  
As a matter of fact  
You don't need to know

Em Likes Pi  
(Gif Attachment: Person eating popcorn)

Peter Panda  
Hey!  
No fair!  
Tell us!  
We would tell you

Squidward  
I would not

Em Likes Pi  
I sure would

Peter Panda  
Just tell us!

Mad Hatter  
Fine  
I'll be late to the office

Peter Panda  
Late!  
To the what!  
We LIVE in the office!  
What does that even mean?!

Em Likes Pi  
Lmao

Peter Panda  
You coward!  
Your all cowards!  
I know what I know!

Mad Hatter  
You know you need more work?  
Understood  
I'll email you another project

Peter Panda  
Wait no  
That's not what I want

Mad Hatter  
And you want to complete this  
work without overtime pay?  
You're so generous Peter

Peter Panda  
D:  
How the turns have tabled!  
I have been wrong  
I repent!

Mad Hatter  
(_read at 7:56AM)_

Peter Panda  
Oh fuck me

Em Likes Pi  
Like I said  
Rip pete  
Nice try buddy

Squidward  
It was a nice try

Em Likes Pi  
Lol what

Squidward  
Did neither of you notice that  
he wasn't DENYING the claim?  
He just didn't answer

Peter Panda  
Oh shit  
Oh shit your rigte  
*rite

Em Likes Pi  
So then that means

Peter Panda  
Uh huh

Em Likes Pi  
Holy shit  
Masen DOES have game

Squidward  
Did you honestly expect any different?

Peter Panda  
:o

Em Likes Pi  
This is bad for my health

* * *

Masen wakes up on his couch four minutes before his alarm is set to go off. He stares up at the ceiling until it does, organizing his thoughts, his plans for the day, the events of the night before. There is a lot to process, he thinks. Plenty to keep his mind occupied.

Where should he start? His deep-set concern when Swansong disappeared, or his disquiet when Bella texted him and asked to come over? The twinge in his chest when she cried in his arms, as if he was her harbor in a storm, or the subdued quality of her fatigue? How about the way his heart sped to see her in only his robe, and then In his clothes, and then in his bed, or how he had felt such a fierce protectiveness at her red-rimmed eyes and the ache she spoke with?

In the end, the only solid feeling he can settle on is how grateful and proud he is to be the one she turned to in a time of need. That's just the way it should be. He doesn't intend for that to ever change.

Masen rises from the couch and slips quietly through his loft, his morning motions economic and silent in deference to the still-slumbering girl in his bed. He manages to pass the first half-hour of waking the same as he usually does, showering, dressing, brewing coffee, all while he mentally sketches the tasks that must be completed today. Now that he's fully recovered from the accident, there's more to do now than ever before, and he has a busy day ahead of him.

He still takes a moment to look into his bedroom, watching over Bella as she sleeps. Her expression is peaceful and untroubled, the blankets bunched around her middle and pulled under her chin while her legs are left uncovered. She sleeps on her side now, but he can see evidence of tossing and turning, the sheets on the entire bed mussed, the spare pillow flung onto the floor. He wonders what it might be like to sleep beside her, someone who sleeps so deeply and with so much movement. Maybe it isn't always like this; maybe she usually sleeps as still as Masen does and this is out of character for her. He doesn't mind it either way because it's _her_, and he is deeply endeared.

Masen eases into the bedroom and crouches down beside the bed. Her hand is hanging over the side of the mattress, so he takes it into his own, tracing his thumb over her delicate knuckles. He expects this to rouse her, but when it doesn't, he changes tracts. Still holding her hand, he reaches out to brush her hair off her forehead and says her name softly.

Bella doesn't respond.

He tries again, speaking louder.

Bella continues to slumber.

Masen leans back and reconsiders how to wake her because apparently a gentle, subtle way is not going to work. He could leave her to wake on her own, he supposes, or write a note. It's not as if he's going far, just downstairs to the office, but it doesn't sit right with him to leave without saying good-bye. If it were anyone else, he wouldn't care, and he would be tactless about waking them up - but this is _Bella_, and she deserves as much tenderness as he can manage.

Ah. It's Bella and Bella has an appetite. Maybe if he made food? The human olfactory nerves are some of the most sensitive and powerful, and he doesn't doubt for a second that his food-loving girlfriend would be roused by the scent of food. Decision made, he gently sets down her hand and goes back to the kitchen.

Masen isn't a great cook. He's never really had cause to learn, because the Cullens are well-off and none of the Cullen brood can do more than put together basic meals themselves and all through college Masen relied solely on the dining hall, the convenience store, and other take-out. But Masen is good at making tea and he can manage to feed himself if he follows the directions food packaging, so making eggs is not beyond him. He has a stack of egg stir-in meals in his refrigerator, the kind that are already loaded with the makings of an omelet require nothing more than a cracked egg and a microwave. By the time the microwave stops beeping and he has plated the food, he does hear some movement from the bedroom.

To be precise, he hears exactly _one_ movement, and curiosity bids him to check it out. From the doorway, he can see Bella sitting up in bed, her hair a wild tangle of waves around her head, her eyes half-lidded as she stares at the wall. She's sleep-flushed and has a pillow crease on her cheek, but he thinks she's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Bella."

She doesn't reply, but she does furrow her brow and look at him with a measure of sleepy-eyed confusion, a pout on her lips.

"I made breakfast," he says.

"Mmph."

Masen lifts his brows. He recalls one of the YouTube videos Peter had sent him, one where Bella's step-sister claimed she was _totally useless in the morning_. He had thought at the time that it was an exaggerated claim because Bella was certainly _never_ useless at any point in the day, but now he's rethinking his initial assessment. She might be sitting up and blinking at the morning light, but Masen is certain she isn't fully _awake_.

His lips twitch. It's cute, actually.

"There's coffee in the kitchen," he tempts and is entertained to see Bella's face scrunch in thought before her expression smoothes out and she stumbles out of bed. He ignores the disarray of his bedding in favor of watching Bella's bare feet shuffle across the hardwood floors. Masen trails behind her as she makes her way to the breakfast bar and all but collapses onto a stool, draping her top half over the counter.

Masen doesn't laugh at the way she perks up at the cup of coffee he slides under her nose, but he wants to. He's never seen Bella like this, not right in front of him still warm and puffy-eyed from sleep, and he wants to ingrain every moment into his mind. And then he wants to devise as many ways as possible to make it happen again and again.

It occurs to him that this urge is somewhat irrational. He doesn't care. Masen is fully aware of his rose-colored glasses - he just has no intention of taking them off.

Masen eats his own food, waiting and watching for signs that Bella is more awake. He thinks he spots it when she is scraping her fork across the plate, chasing one last bit of egg, and then abruptly stops as pink rises on her cheeks. She darts a look up to him, as if checking that he was watching, and then looks down at plate the way one might look at the floor when waiting for it to swallow them whole.

She's embarrassed and Masen can only think, again, _cute_.

"Good morning," he says mirthfully.

Bella bites her lip. "Good morning…Thanks for letting me have the bed. Your mattress is…very comfortable. Soft."

"Memory foam."

"Ah. That would explain it…"

Masen collects their plates and cups, turning his back to place them in the sink to hide the grin breaking across his face. She's already pink-cheeked; he doesn't need to add to it by being so obviously amused.

His expression is cleared by the time he turns around, bracing his hands on the countertop. "Your clothes are dry. I didn't fold them because I noticed some were, ah, delicate. I hope that's okay."

Predictably - and satisfyingly - Bella's flush renews itself full force. "That's fine," she says quickly. "I'll fold it myself! Thank you for drying them!"

Masen shrugs. "It wasn't any trouble." It was, however, illuminating. He'd done his best not to linger over the damp clothes, or treat any article as more interesting than another, but he can admit that certain things briefly caught his eye. Very briefly, and not enough to bear overthinking about.

If he had waited downstairs last night until the dryer had finished so the risk of one of the others investigated the laundry room, then that's between him and the machines.

"Do you have any classes today?" he asks.

"Two, later in the afternoon" she answers. Bella pauses, frowning. "I…don't think I can go back to the dorm after last night. I don't even know if Alice will be able to stand seeing me next week, during finals. I'm going to have to figure something else out. Maybe I could go home…?"

"I've been thinking about that," Masen says truthfully. He'd had a lot of time last night to turn over Bella's issue while the dryer was going, and while he can't say he's at all happy that she feels she can't go back to her dorm without causing added tension, he does think he can make arrangements that she will be comfortable with. He's under no delusion that living together so quickly is a good idea. "I might have a solution."

"Oh?"

Masen dips his head, acknowledging her interest. "Allow me to get it arranged before you decide. Until then, you can stay here tonight," he offers. "And any other night you need to. My door is always open to you."

She smiles prettily, quietly pleased. He much prefers this look of contentedness on her to the distress of last night.

"If you don't have any plans this morning, how do you feel about completing your internship orientation today?"

"That would be great," she says. "Let me just…"

Masen follows her gesture with his eyes, taking in the way his clothes lay on her figure with a simmer of heat in his gut. He clears his throat. "Take your time."

When Bella has closed herself in the bathroom after picking through her clothes in the basket by the bedroom, Masen releases a long, slow breath. He'd never known a woman to be tempting, but Bella Swan might as well be a siren for all he's concerned. Everything she does, no matter how small, is enchanting to him. Compared to their first date, he's much less struck by nerves around her - at least, he's not _obvious_ about it anymore, with sweaty palms and trouble making eye contact - but all the same, he still isn't at ease. He doesn't think he should be, either, because surely his heart thrumming so quickly is a good sign.

But he knows, right now, the ecstatic ignition of his nerves at her every breath is the least important consideration to be making. He has to prioritize her well-being, and doing so is no burden.

In fact, he looks forward to it.

* * *

**Turing Is Our Hero (Group Chat)**

Squidward  
Well  
That was something

Em Likes Pi  
It was a whole lot of things  
Can you narrow it down

Squidward  
Sure  
The printer is fixed

Peter Panda  
The printer  
The PRINTER  
All of that and youre talking about  
The fucking  
Printer?!

Squidward  
It was the first thing that happened  
Is that not a good place to start

Em Likes Pi  
Yeah sure okay  
Our intern fixed the printer  
That's great  
But it was not the highlight

Peter Panda  
For once Em makes a good point

Em Likes Pi  
And fuck you too pete

Peter Panda  
Pass  
You're not my type  
I can do better

Squidward  
Ouch

Em Likes Pi  
Fuck you both  
We're supposed to be making fun  
of Masen

Peter Panda  
I forgot lol  
Where were we

Squidward  
The printer  
And it being fixed

Peter Panda  
Yeah that was cool or wtvr  
But I want to talk about what  
happened after  
When our intern had to leave

Squidward  
Oh that

Em Likes Pi  
Are you talking about the  
irrefutable evidence that Masen  
Our Masen  
Our Mr Robot Masen  
Is in actual fact an ass man?

Peter Panda  
Ding ding ding!

Em Likes Pi  
Well I'm glad I'm not the only  
one who saw it because I thought  
I was hallucinating

Peter Panda  
My dude  
If you were hallucinating  
Then so was I  
Because I saw what you saw

Squidward  
It wasn't a big deal

Peter Panda  
WASN'T A WHAT NOW  
It wasn't a BIG DEAL  
Al!  
I can't even!

Em Likes Pi  
Yeah Al  
It's a huge deal

Peter Panda  
Massive!

Em Likes Pi  
King Kong huge

Peter Panda  
Godzilla gigantic

Squidward  
He walked her to the door  
That's it

Peter Panda  
LOL  
Yeah but before that  
His eyes were GLUED

Em Likes Pi  
He even tilted his head  
I was there  
I saw it  
I am a witness

Peter Panda  
Yeah! Yeah he did!  
And so I tilted my head too  
To see what he was looking at  
But then he GLARED at me  
And I almost shit myself

Em Likes Pi  
Thanks for reminding me

Squidward  
That part I liked

Peter Panda  
You both suck

Em Likes Pi  
The point though it that  
Masen is an ass man

Mad Hatter  
Are none of you busy enough  
I can give you more work

Em Likes Pi  
Hahaha  
Very funny Mase  
As a fellow ass man, I know  
you'll show me mercy

Mad Hatter  
I'm not an ass man

Peter Panda  
I beg to differ!

Em Likes Pi  
Yeahhhhh, we all saw what we saw

Mad Hatter  
I'm not an ass man  
I'm Bella's man

Peter Panda  
Fucking what  
Are my eyes broken  
Did I read what I just read

Em Likes Pi  
Damn dude  
You're so whipped lol

Squidward  
(whip emoji)

Mad Hatter  
Et tu Alistair?

Squidward  
Sorry not sorry mate  
But they aren't wrong

Peter Panda  
LOL  
I CAN'T WAIT TO TELL THE INTERNET

Mad Hatter  
I'm changing the wifi password

Peter Panda  
Wait what  
No don't do that  
Masen!  
Masen I can't get online  
Masen I wasn't really going to tell  
the internet

Em Likes Pi  
Oh good job Pete  
Now wifi is gone  
Oh wait, nvm  
I just got the new password

Squidward  
Me too

Peter Panda  
I didn't  
What about me  
I want wifi too!

Mad Hatter  
Finish your work first

Peter Panda  
You know  
You havent gotten any nicer  
with a girlfriend

Mad Hatter  
Good

Peter Panda  
D:

* * *

Masen is in his private office, the wide panel of glass showing him an image of al he's worked for - a dozen of the best recent graduates from Stanford, Berkley, and UCLA, all working toward the same goal. It had been an entire process to cull out applicants in his last semester to find people who shared the same vision as he did. He'd been persuasive and competitive enough to tempt these dozen guys from the tech giants in Silicon Valley, and he's proud of what they have achieved so far.

But Masen has bigger dreams than one or two successful mobile games. His aspirations reach the sky and they will, he thinks, have a greater impact on just the reception of one game. He wants to create a legacy, something that revolutionizes the entire industry. This, a dozen guys working at cutting-edge computers, is a good start.

And right now, he has something else that needs to be handled - Bella's complication with her roommate. He'd told her this morning that he had solution and he thinks he does. Masen is fortunate enough to have a brother who does not mind sharing personal details about his life, which is something Masen intends to leverage in his - and Bella's favor.

All it requires is a phone call. Carlisle isn't on call today, and since it's a weekday he's probably working at the Cullen company, which means lunch has just ended. Carlisle, like Masen, sticks to a rigid schedule, so he's certain his call will be picked up before he finishes dialing.

Carlisle sounds tired when he answers, a weariness that tells Masen just how well his brother's day has been so far. Masen can commiserate, to an extent. All the same, when Masen brings up asking a favor, Carlisle meets him with open curiosity.

"_You want me to do a favor? How unusual. What do you need from me that you can't manage yourself?"_

_Another apartment_, Masen thinks wryly. Because that's the crux of the issue. He and Bella are still too _new_ to strain their relationship by living together, and if Bella doesn't feel comfortable going back to her dorm for fear of ruffling her roommate's feathers, then she needs another place to go. But Masen can't possibly pay for a hotel for either of them long term, and he doesn't have the funds to pay for a second apartment - not yet, at least, and being able to do so with ease is several years down the road. That means Masen has to find resources outside of himself, which ultimately leads him to tapping Carlisle for a connection.

"You said Esme was looking for a house-sitter last time we talked," Masen says.

"_She's still looking,_" Carlisle laments. "_Kebi is traveling through Egypt for the next two month and there's nobody home to feed the fish when Esme has to oversee her project in San Francisco. I would feed the fish for her, but between my residency and the company, I'm hardly ever at my own apartment…It's becoming quite a problem finding a reliable temporary sitter."_

"I have a good candidate."

_"You do? Well, that's great news! Who are they?"_

"My girlfriend," Masen says bluntly. "She needs a place to stay for a while due to extenuating circumstances at her dorm. She's smart and reliable. She can feed Esme's fish."

"_You're _what_?" _Carlisle bleats on the other end of the line. There is a distinct sound of something being dropped, a clattering and fluttering sound. "_Masen, did you say girlfriend? When did you get a girlfriend?"_

Masen thinks back. As far as Masen is concerned, he's had a girlfriend since at least April, but he's certain that, if Bella were asked, she would cite their first date a few weeks ago. Better to play it safe. "June."

"_Masen, it's _July_."_

"Mm."

"_You've had a girlfriend for a month and you're only just now telling me? And you're telling me in the context of getting Esme a live-in house-sitter?"_

"Yes."

Carlisle makes a noise, something like disbelief and exasperation. "_Well….I…I'll speak with Esme about it, then. What's her name? She's still in school? Will commuting from Esme's apartment be too difficult for her?"_

Masen thinks of the one time he had been to Esme's apartment. It is admittedly a bit further from campus than Masen's building, but only by ten minutes, which is still close enough to attend classes with ease. He shifts his phone to his other ear and rattles off the pertinent information.

Even he can hear the warmth in his voice when he talks about her. Carlisle, to his credit as an older brother, has enough tact to not tease him about it. Instead, he says, "_I'll pass this along to Esme. I'm sure she'll be happy to take Bella in for a while."_

"Mm. Thanks."

"_You're welcome, Bella's boyfriend,_" Carlisle says, right before he hangs up.

Masen frowns at his phone and silently takes back all the nice things he has thought about his brother recently. Of all the childish tactics…

With that in the works, though, Masen can turn his attention to other matters. There are endless emails to answer, he needs to run simulations on the latest coding created by Peter's department, he needs to look over the storyboard that Alistair's group has been working on, and Emmett has sent him financial documents to be looked over and approved. Overseeing their entire operation involves a lot of mental bandwidth, and by the time a few hours pass and he has taken a chunk out of his workload, Masen is ready for a break.

However, since his work never really ends because they are in mid-development for Menagerie, he switches gears to an issue that takes considerably less brain power. If there was one thing Masen learned from Grandfather Cullen, it was how useful delegation can be. Masen isn't in the position to delegate much, but there are certain decisions that _can_ be taken out of his hands.

With that in mind, he gathers the documents sent over from the insurance company and calls for a company-wide meeting in the conference room. When everyone has gathered, he sits back at the head chair and says, "Our company car is too damaged for repairs. The insurance company is willing to cover the cost of a car at equal or lesser value. We need to decide what our new company car will be. Any suggestions?"

Peter claps his hands on his thighs. "Well I'm glad the old one is totaled," he crows. "I hated that stupid silver Volvo. It was such an old man car!"

"That stupid silver Volvo saved our lives," Alistair grumbles with a pointed look at the red cast still on his arm.

"Doesn't mean it didn't suck," Peter tells him.

Alistair kicks Peter's chair, sending him sliding back several feet before Peter can course-correct the wheels with a grunt and an abashed expression.

"Hands up for _not_ letting Masen choose the next company car?" Emmett asks, ignoring their antics.

No less than ten hands rise to the air.

"Sorry, buddy," Emmett says with a grin. "Looks like you don't get to be part of this process."

Masen rolls his eyes. That's exactly what he wanted in the first place. He doesn't say that, though. Let them think they've outsmarted him and have a victory lap over it - things like this is good for company morale, he knows.

Masen stands from the chair. "Twenty minutes to decide, and then a request for a replacement Volvo is going to the insurance company," he says mildly, and watches placidly as an argument over which cars are better springs forth around the conference room.

Seeing that this task is underway, Masen walks away with his hands in his pockets, mind already turning to the next issue to tackle. He has some queries from new investors who are interested in supporting Midnight Sun's latest project and he'd really like to get through those before Bella returns. By then, he should hopefully have an answer from Esme and be able to give her good news.

Masen sits at his desk and thinks, just for a moment, how marvelously strange it is how his priorities have shifted so dramatically to accommodate Bella Swan. He wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Lee Lee  
So let me get this straight  
Instead of patching things up with  
Alice, you're moving in with your bf

Bell Bell  
No  
I'm moving in with my boyfriend's  
brother's girlfriend

Lee Lee  
Thank you  
That clears things up  
Oh wait  
NO IT DOESN'T

Bell Bell  
Leah  
Aren't you being a little  
dramatic?

Lee Lee  
Me?  
Being dramatic?  
Are you shitting me?!

Bell Bell  
Here we go

Lee Lee  
I leave for one (1) summer  
And suddenly you have a bf  
And you have a big enough fight  
with Alice that you moved out of  
the dorm  
AND NOW you're living in sin!

Bell Bell  
I am not  
I slept over at his place twice

Lee Lee  
Two times!

Bell Bell  
He slept on the couch!

Lee Lee  
Uh huh

Bell Bell  
He's the one who found me a  
place to stay so I won't feel  
pressured

Lee Lee  
He's too good to be true  
And that's sketchy as hell

Bell Bell  
Honestly  
I'm only telling you bc we don't  
keep secrets from each other  
And also because I need you to  
not tell Dad and Mom

Lee Lee  
I see how it is  
You're scared of them but not  
scared of me

Bell Bell  
Obviously

Lee Lee  
Fair enough  
I still don't like it

Bell Bell  
Esme seems nice!  
And she has these cool tropical  
fish that someone needs to take  
care of, so I don't even need to  
pay rent

Lee Lee  
No not that  
I'm over that  
I don't like the other thing  
The fight with Alice thing

Bell Bell  
I don't like it either  
But she won't talk to me  
Or look at me  
It's easier for us both to have  
some space right now

Lee Lee  
I guess  
I mean its your life

Bell Bell  
She's really hurt by whatever  
happened and i don't want to  
make it any harder for her

Lee Lee  
Yeah yeah  
You're an angel I get it

Bell Bell  
So

Lee Lee  
So what

Bell Bell  
So you won't tell the parents?

Lee Lee  
Oh you know me  
My lips are sealed

Bell Bell  
Awesome  
You get all the gold stars

Lee Lee  
Bitch of course I do!

Bell Bell  
:D

* * *

When Masen said he had a solution to her sudden housing issue, Bella isn't sure what she thought that solution might be. Mostly she'd just been glad to not have to think about it, because thinking about why she can't go back to the dorms just made her think about that fight with Alice and Bella has been doing her best to not think about it at all.

She hasn't ever been good with that kind of confrontation, and her instinct to let it settle and lay in wait for peace is ringing forth more strongly now than ever before. She doesn't want to deal with it; it's just easier to run away, at this point.

Just for now.

Just until Alice cools off and the problem gets resolved.

Still, when Masen said he had a solution, Bella didn't think his solution would be having her move into his brother's girlfriend's place. If it had been an option on a list, it would have been the last one she chose because of how unexpected it is. And yet, that's where she finds herself.

It all falls into place neatly on her third night away from the dorm, after she'd gone back to pack up more things when she knew Alice would be stuck in the middle of her commute. Weighed down with her luggage and her cactus, she and Masen take a Lyft about ten minutes further north, right in a blooming neighborhood that smacks of more obvious suburbia than Masen's urban location. The apartment complex is one of middling class, just nice enough to have a security gate, but not so nice that the apartment itself is made with luxury. It's a roomy enough two bedroom, with a third room acting as an office space, and two bathrooms; the kitchen is small, linked to both the dining area and the narrow patio, which is teeming with potted plants the likes of which Bella can't even name; the living room, easily the largest space in the apartment, is dominated by an aquarium stretching across the longest wall which houses a variety of tropical fish.

The apartment is decorated with a mish-mash of bohemian style, lots of patterned rugs and textured pillows in deep, earthy jewel tones, most of the wood a dark cherry, and the walls the standard off-white of all apartments - but it is the tropical fish that Bella fixates on as they enter the apartment. The fish are, after all, the reason why she is being granted a place to stay.

According to Masen, his brother's girlfriend, Esme Platt, has a collection of tropical fish with particular feeding and cleaning schedules that must be maintained. With Esme working on a project that is making her stay for days at a time in San Francisco and with Esme's roommate, Kebi, is away on a photography assignment in Egypt, there is nobody around to care for the fish as usual. That's where Bella comes in. In trade for Bella being allowed to stay in Kebi's room rent-free for the next several weeks, Bella will be placed in charge of the care, feeding, and maintenance of the tropical fish as well as, by the looks of it, the numerous plants in the apartment. Bella feels like it's a fair deal, even if she is a little nervous about taking care of these colorful creatures.

But anything is better than facing Alice's unpredictable mood right now - and Bella genuinely does not want to strain her budding relationship with Masen by couch surfing at his place indefinitely. They are both on the same page where that is concerned, she thinks.

Because it is still business hours and he has a conference call with investors waiting for him back at the office, Masen does not linger after helping Bella take her bags upstairs. He waits with her until she and Esme are introduced, takes her bags for her into Kebi's bedroom, and then presses a deft kiss to her cheek before ducking out and catching the Lyft that is idling for him in the parking lot.

Bella watches him go, her face flushed with his casual affection, and can only smile. She'd told him that he didn't _have_ to come with her to move her stuff, but Masen had insisted, even though it made his own day a bit more complicated.

She is so very lucky. And in more ways than one, since she now has a place to stay without worrying about adding to tension. So when her new roommate laughs at her with good-nature, Bella can only continue smiling in response.

"These Cullen boys are something," Esme says with a fond shake of her head. Esme Platt has a kind of classic, old school Hollywood type of beauty, with a buxom figure, gentle caramel curls, and limpid Bette Davis eyes. Only six or seven years older than Bella, Esme exudes a kind of womanly confidence that is both inspirational and intimidating. Even Bella, who for all the world is comfortable in her own skin, doesn't possess that same sense of self that Esme seems to have.

Bella has a very childish thought that she wants to be like Esme when she grows up.

"Thank you for letting me stay here," Bella says, somewhat awkwardly.

"Oh, please. You're doing me a favor," Esme tells her. She motions for Bella to follow her to the fish tank, then smiles at one of the larger fish. "As much as I love these cuties, they do require more attention than most people would think. Tropical fish can be tricky, did you know? It was easier with Kebi around, but with neither of us home very often…I'll be able to rest easy, knowing someone will be here to check up on them every day."

"I could send you pictures," Bella offers.

"Could you? That would be great!"

"It's no problem, really," Bella says hastily. She looks at the fish, watching the way they swim and circle so smoothly around each other, and bites her lip pensively.

She's very glad to be here and even happier that she can pay the favor back somehow, but it doesn't remove the thorn from her side. Staying at this apartment to look after fish and plants is just a temporary solution to a problem that she has no idea how to fix. It's a good thing that finals are next week, because then Bella will have an entire month to mend fences with Alice before the fall semester begins.

Maybe they just need some space, some time apart. People need that, sometimes. Between house-sitting and her internship at Midnight Sun, Bella will be able to fill the next few weeks with enough activity to distract her from that lingering ache in her chest, the one that tells her to get to the bottom of the Alice situation.

For now, though, this is good. A welcome distraction.

"Did you know these fish are how Carlisle and I met?" Esme asks after a few moments.

Bella regards her with some surprise. "_Really_? Because of _these_ fish?"

"The very same," Esme confirms with a smile. She traces her finger down the side of the tank, where a starfish is clinging to the glass surface, careful not to tap her fingernail against the aquarium. "In a way, at least."

"Oh?"

"You see, it all started with one of the first projects the firm gave me. A local aquarium was being renovated to include more sustainability and I went down to check out the site, just to get a lay of the land. My goal was to get measurements for the renovation, but I ended up waist-deep in an enclosure. The woman who fished me out happened to be a Professor you might know, and I was still speaking with her when Carlisle showed up to take her to lunch," Esme explains with a twinkle in her eye. "One thing led to another, and that lunch turned into something spectacular."

"Professor Cullen introduced you?" Bella clarifies with a tinge of humor.

"She's crafty," Esme says with a nod. "She came up with a reason for Carlisle to only take me to lunch that first day. Maybe she saw something, or maybe she really did have a pressing meeting about sea turtles. Who knows?"

Bella laughs. "That sounds like something Masen would do, if given the chance."

Esme laughs. "Carlisle, too. Have you met him yet?"

Bella shakes her head. "Not yet, no."

"You will soon," Esme announces. She looks at Bella speculatively. "I wonder if Masen will be on his best behavior, or if he'll continue to bully Carlisle in front of you?"

Bella raises her brows. "He bullies his brother?"

Not that she isn't surprised by the news, if it's true, considering how much pleasure Masen seems to get out of devising awkward situations for his friends. It's a uniquely playful aspect of his personality that she enjoys - given how taciturn he is, the situational humor might be the only way he can be lighthearted with his friends. If that extends to his brother, then at least Bella knows what to expect.

"Isn't that the nature of siblings?" Esme wonders rhetorically. She turns away from the tank and smiles warmly. "I'll walk you through how to take care of the fish and everything later. For now, why don't you get settled and I'll order some Indian food? We can get to know each other and talk about our Cullen boys. Sound good?"

"Sounds great," Bella agrees.

As Esme wanders off to order the take-out, Bella casts one more look at the half dozen fish in the large tank, thinking about the story Esme told. Although Bella has already met Professor Cullen, it's only in the context of being her student. She wonders how different it will be when - or if - Bella gets to meet Professor Cullen as her boyfriend's mother, instead.

And then she pinches herself for _already_ thinking about meeting the parents. For God's sake, she has _enough_ going on to be thinking about _that_! Chastising herself, Bella hurries off to unpack what she can and make herself home in her temporary room.

* * *

Carlisle  
Esme adores Bella

Masen  
Obviously

Carlisle  
I  
I have nothing to say to that

Masen  
Good

Carlisle  
I don't know if this girl is good for you  
Or if she's made you worse

Masen  
Yes

Carlisle  
For the record  
That's not a response that works here

Masen  
:|

Carlisle  
Turnabout is fair play baby brother

Masen  
Oh  
I see.

Carlisle  
Wait  
No, I take it back

Masen  
What was it you said when we were kids?  
No takebacksies?  
Applies here.

Carlisle  
I have dug my own grave  
And knowing you  
Revenge comes best served cold

Masen  
(_read at 4:47PM)_

Carlisle  
I have Regrets

* * *

Bella's first weekend at Esme's place is equally split between settling in, learning the rules of fish-and-tank maintenance, and last-minute cram studying for her finals. Two days pass in a spin of feeling wrong-footed and slightly off-balance, trying to assimilate to her new environment and trying _not_ to think about Alice. The distractions are nice, useful. By the time Monday comes around, she is steadier, less shaken.

It helps, having the distance. She hopes it helps Alice, too. Perspective is always easier when there is room for space, and by the time the week starts, Bella is more sure than ever that something had caused Alice to spiral. But she also knows that she can't be the one to ask, to prod, to discover. Not yet. Alice Brandon buzzes around like a bee, and just like a bee, she disappears after a sting. Right now, Alice needs her space, too - and because Bella loves Alice like a sister, she is willing to put her own need for resolution aside. For now.

Bella instead throws herself into acing her summer finals, because regardless of whatever else is going on, she needs to get the grades to keep her scholarship. It has to be her top priority, and so it is.

Esme is a true gem. On the days she is home, three days in a row so far, she putters around Bella with an elderly sister aura, plying Bella with snacks she _swears_ are brain food for better studying and gently teasing Bella, even as she supervises Bella's care of the aquarium and its inhabitants. Bella feels a certain sense of kinship with Esme, a kind of comfort she doesn't often feel with people right off the bat. If Bella is a placid lake, then Esme is a gentle breeze. They click, and it's a balm.

And then there is Masen, steadfast and rock-solid, who manages to walk the fine line between giving her the exact amount of space she needs and being prepared to meet all her needs. Bella is somewhat bewildered by it, but also charmed. It's all rather stilted, but Masen clearly cares in his own way. She likens him to an iceberg, where only the smallest tip of unimaginable depths can be seen. They match well too, she thinks.

On campus, Bella makes a point of avoiding the paths she knows Alice frequents. They are in different departments, but because Bella's second major involves design elements, one of her classes during summer quarter means she's in the same building as Alice's usual classes and hangouts. Bella is torn between feeling ridiculous and feeling thoughtful for skulking around the less trodden paths, but it is what it is.

Before she knows it, its Thursday and Bella has sat her last final, which had been laughably easy after her frenetic studying. It's just after noon when Bella leaves campus, but instead of taking the bus back to Esme's apartment, Bella goes to Masen's building. Technically, Masen and Bella had agreed her first official day as a Midnight Sun intern would be Friday, but Bella doesn't really feel like going back to an empty apartment and staring at fish for the next twelve hours. Without the excuse of studying, going back to Esme's place right now is a perfect opportunity for her mind to turn to the things she is _not_ thinking about. So, the internship it is.

Bella has never seen Midnight Sun during business hours and there is a marked difference in the office environment when there are a dozen young men sat at computers in circular clusters, each of them working on some task. She stands at the head of the lobby for a minute, just observing the hustle. The atmosphere itself is relaxed, but focused; she can hear some joking around, but beneath the friendliness is a serious tone.

This is what Masen and his friends have built. She can't help but admire it - and note how fortunate she is to be given an opportunity to contribute to it, even just a bit.

It isn't long before she's noticed.

"Oh, thank God! A face that doesn't hurt my eyes to look at!"

Unsurprisingly, it's Peter who hops up from his chair, the wheels rolling across the floor and stopped by Masen's foot as he comes from the private office space. Masen wordlessly returns the chair to its proper place, then follows sedately after Peter, running his eyes over her in a silent survey, seemingly looking for any signs of distress.

"Bella, Bella! I'm so glad to see you! Let me tell you, spending all day with these ugly mugs doesn't make it any easier to code!" Peter claims emphatically. He shakes his head. "I swear, my eyes are crossing every time I look at the screen! But with you here, I can see the light! The light at the end of the tunnel!"

"Ah…What tunnel?" Bella wonders, bemused.

"The tunnel of Masen's unobtainable expectations!" Peter cries. He droops forward comically, sparing her a wild grin, even as he leans in, dropping his voice to a loud whisper. "Would you believe he only let's us take a thirty-minute lunch break? A real tyrant, that one."

Bella knows for a fact that Midnight Sun has hour-long lunch breaks. It's written in the packet Masen had given her during her official tour. Peter just likes to stir up trouble. Still, Bella can play too. "Thirty minutes?" Bella clicks her tongue. "Isn't that too long? Fifteen minutes should be enough."

Peter freezes.

"Why give them a break at all?" Masen asks when he reaches them. "Let them work through lunch."

Bella bites the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling. "As long as the computers are safe from any spills, eating at their desks seems generous enough to me."

Peter sputters, then pouts at them. "I know you think you're being funny," he says to Bella, hooking his thumb at Masen. "But this one might _actually_ do that. Just you watch. You've jinxed us."

Bella blinks. "You believe in jinxes?"

Peter gapes. "You _don't_?"

"Peter," Masen intones quietly.

Peter flaps his hands. "Alright, whatever. I'll get back to work. I know you want that section done today. It'll get done."

"Mm." Masen waits until Peter has walked away before he turns his full attention to her, taking her hand into his own. "You're here."

"I had some time," she says, squeezing his fingers. "I thought maybe…But I can just come back tomorrow."

Masen interlaces their hands. "Today," he says firmly. Then leads her to the middle of the office space and calls for the room's attention. Bella, used to being the recipient of attention - usually unwanted - does not shrink back from so many eyes falling on her, but it is a near thing, especially when some of those faces become incredulous as Masen continues speaking. "This is Bella Swan, our new intern. She won't be assigned to a permanent department, but she will be able to assist in other ways."

"She fixed the printer!" Peter pipes in from the back. "And the coffee machine!"

There are appreciative noises. Someone gets smart and says, "Hey, boss! Are we allowed to hold hands with the intern, too?"

"No," Masen says flatly.

Emmett, standing off to the side, coughs and steps forward. "Uh, this might be a good time to remind everyone about certain clauses in our contracts. Sexual harassment or discrimination is a big no, you hear?"

Bella feels a warmth bloom in her chest. Even having only met him once, Bella can hear the protectiveness in Emmett's warning. And she thinks it says something good about the culture of this company - and the values of its founders - that they have written those clauses into employee contracts. The tech industry is dominated by men, and Bella has heard more than one account from older classmates about how difficult it can be to work in the lion pit. Knowing Masen, she has no doubts that he is a driving force behind this, especially when he gives Emmett an appreciative nod.

"Someone should tell boss then!"

"Yeah! Boss, you're breaking the rules!"

Peter barks out a laugh. "It's not breaking the rules if she's his girlfriend!"

"Oh!"

"Whoa!"

"Well, that explains it!"

"I feel like there should be a special form for this situation!"

"We don't have an HR department," Emmett says. He scratches the back of his neck. "There's been a discussion about it."

"Can't we make the intern be the HR department?"

"What, because she's a girl?" someone fires back.

"Wha- No!"

"What a weaksauce denial."

"Oh, fuck off. It's not what I meant! I just thought it would be convenient!"

"Putting Bella Swan in charge of HR would be undercutting her skills," Alistair says firmly, curling his lip at the other employees.

The sounds of interest are renewed and more than one of the men look at her with an academic sort of intrigue. Some, of course, don't seem very convinced, but there are always skeptics, that much she knows.

"Alistair," Masen says in a mild tone. "You'll be in charge of finding placement for Bella."

Alistair agrees and Bella is summarily passed over to Alistair's charge, as Masen mutters something about needing to attend another telemeeting and closes himself in the office again. With Masen gone, there are only a few more lingering looks before Emmett rounds on the employees, sniping them back to work with pointed barbs. Soon enough, it's only Alistair and Bella standing in the middle of the floor and Alistair is looking at her with his pale eyes narrowed.

"Alright, Swanning. I know you can fix things and play games well, but what else do you have to offer?" he asks, not unkindly.

"I'm doing a joint major with software engineering and graphic design," Bella answers promptly. She doesn't mention the Swanning thing; it only makes sense that she would be recognized in this particular crowd, and hadn't Masen mentioned something like this, anyway? It's inconsequential. If Alistair wants to call her Swanning, then that's what she'll answer to.

"So, I could put you anywhere I like," Alistair surmises. He takes a moment to think, then raps a knuckle on the bright red cast encasing his arm. "Follow me."

Alistair leads her to a cluster near the kitchen area. The neon sign overhead reads GRAPHICS in blocky highlighter pink and the equipment in this section is decidedly different from the other departments; whereas most of the clusters only have single flat-screen monitors, these desks have other sleek equipment, like animation tablets and double-screen monitors. A swath of the exposed brick wall behind the circular cluster of desks is dedicated to a magnetic whiteboard, which is littered in brainstorming ideas and tacked-up posters of character design. There are fewer employees here than the other clusters too. Aside from Alistair, there is a lanky redhead with a sharp face and a pleasant-looking man who looks a couple of years older than everyone else; they are introduced as Liam and Charles, respectively.

Alistair is the head of the graphics department, which is in charge of art development and animation, and is the _exact_ department Bella would have chosen to work in, had she been given the choice. She looks at this internship with new eyes. Maybe she can be more than on-hand IT support - maybe she can actually learn how to use the cutting-edge equipment Midnight Sun has procured for the graphics team.

"We're down a hand since the accident," Alistair is saying. "But that doesn't mean we don't have certain deadlines. Only three-fourths of the character designs for Menagerie have been finalized, which is a problem for the coders who can't move forward until we finish. You'll be giving me a hand. Literally."

"She doesn't look like she knows how to use the tablets," Liam says with a sharp tongue to match his sharp face. "Still in school, right? They don't let you touch anything expensive until your last classes."

To Bella's chagrin, Liam isn't _wrong_. Everything she knows about animating and character design is either from the textbook, her own sketchbook, or clumsy attempts using the trap pad on her laptop. She hasn't had a chance to work with these kinds of tablets, although she has been painstakingly saving up for one of her own. She doesn't want to ask her parents, and between living expenses that her scholarship doesn't cover, she hasn't been able to tuck away enough cash from Twitch streams to buy the animation tablet she wants.

But just because something is obvious, doesn't mean it has to be pointed out so rudely.

"I'll learn," Bella bites out with a smile.

Liam scoffs. "Didn't you hear? We're on a deadline. We don't have the time to teach you when we're taking on Alistair's work, too."

"Oi," Alistair says sharply. "Bugger off, you nit."

"Yeah, man," Charles says with a chiding look. "Don't be an asshole on the first day. Save it for tomorrow."

"If you want to waste your time, fine. Leave me out of it," Liam says. And with that, he pops headphones on his head and gets to work, ignoring the three of them.

Alistair mutters some very unkind things under his breath, and takes a seat. Charles, meanwhile, pulls a spare chair around for Bella and gestures for her to sit. "Sorry about Liam," he says. "He's a-"

"Fucking prick," Alistair grumbles.

"I was going to say, he's a little prickly. He had a bad break up and he's been taking it out on everyone else for a while."

"It isn't because he doesn't think I can do it?" Bella asks with a raised brow. "Because that's what it sounded like."

"It was a little patronizing," Charles concedes.

That much Bella can agree about. At least Liam hadn't brought her gender into it - just her inexperience, which is fair, but she's also an _intern_ and learning comes with the territory.

However, Liam isn't the first and he certainly won't be the last off-color personality she's ever had to deal with. By the grace of growing up with the boys is La Push, Bella knows how to navigate around a hostile asshole, and the best way to deal with Liam is to ignore him just as much as he ignores her. Bella may not like conflict or confrontation, but she's also not about to grovel or get upset that someone doesn't like her. Enough people like Bella; having one less person is, if anything, less of a burden.

Alistair and Charles spend the next while giving Bella a quick tutorial on how to use the animation tablet and software. Alistair is a much more patient teacher than she would have expected, as he takes the time to make sure she understands every function before moving on to the next. She appreciates it and catches on to the operation of the tablet rather quickly, much to Charles' relief, as it means he can get back to his own work.

When he thinks Bella has a solid basis of understanding, Alistair pulls a chair beside hers and gives her verbal directions. Open this file, apply that color, use that paintbrush. Bella effectively becomes Alistair's hand, which is good enough to finalize the character design he's been struggling to finish by the end of the day.

"It's rough," Alistair says as the design is printed out and tacked to the board. "But we all start somewhere. This is a good enough foundation for Charles to work from. He's doing the animation bits for me until I'm free of this bloody cast, and now you can do the design bits for me."

"How many more characters need to be designed?" Bella wonders. "And by when?"

Alistair's lips thin. "Fourteen more. Liam will do half, and you and I will finish the last seven off. Ideally, they need to be ready by Monday so we can start working with the coders."

"Seven?" Bella echoes. Seven wouldn't usually be a lot of _anything_, except that she has learned Alistair has strident expectations and exacting standards, which is why finishing even _one_ part-way completed character design took nearly four hours. Liam and Charles have been working tirelessly the entire time, too, and she's certain that they share the same standards, because Alistair - and Masen, really - wouldn't allow anything else.

So, seven more character designs like that by Monday is a lot. Bella feels a stab of pity for Liam, who is working alone. At least Bella has Alistair for direction.

"It's a lot, isn't it? Don't worry," Alistair says sedately. "We have the roughs to work from and you're pretty good. These are just designs to get dimensions and colorization correct so Charles can work from them easier. They don't have to be perfect."

"Not perfect, maybe," Bella agrees, then shakes her head with a frown. "But it doesn't sound like you guys have any time to go back and fix a mistake, so…"

"Don't worry about it," Alistair repeats. "Just show up early tomorrow and we'll finish quickly."

It's funny, she thinks. She hadn't pegged Alistair for being as confident as, say, Emmett or Peter, and she knows him to be abrasive and acerbic. But here he is with a quiet confidence and a genteel assurance that puts her at ease. She is reminded keenly of Leah and her sister's hidden depths. She wonders how well Leah and Alistair would get along. Probably very well.

Maybe even too well?

The Midnight Sun office empties out quickly once the clock strikes five, but there is still one person lingering - Masen, stuck on the phone in his office. Bella lingers too, peering through the window-wall to watch as Masen stands and paces and talks with a terribly handsome stern expression. He looks like he's negotiating, but she can't tell if it's going well, or not.

She wonders if this is what he envisioned when he started this company. His friends are all heads of their respective departments - Alistair with graphics, Peter with programming, Emmett with engineering, and sometimes financing. But Masen doesn't get to work with computers, he gets to work with people to keep the company running. Is that what he wanted? She isn't sure.

Bella recalls the animated way he spoke about Menagerie and can tell that more than a little of his own creativity was involved in the storyline. Is that Masen's role? The idea man?

It's fitting, but she doesn't think she's getting the whole picture. Well. It's only her first day. She'll figure it out eventually.

Bella waits until Masen has finished his phone call before she enters the office. She knows now that the slight smile that greets her is a rare one, not seen by many people, and she can't stop her own brighter, freer smile from returning his greeting.

"Hey, Boss," she says teasingly. "What do you think about grabbing some dinner?"

"Dinner with the boss?" Masen asks, his brows raising. He drifts closer, stepping into her personal space. "On day one?"

Bella holds his gaze, lifting her head, dropping her voice. "I have a few questions only the boss can answer."

"Is that so?" Masen's grey-green eyes glimmer. He leans closer, his thumb touching her chin to hold her steady while his lips press against her cheek, just shy of her mouth.

Her breath catches, cheeks heating up brilliantly.

Masen's smirk when he pulls back is unmistakable.

Bella feels - not quite happy, but almost.

Almost.

* * *

**A/N: You get a roommate, and you get a roommate, and you get a roommate with fish! LOL You guys really didn't think I would have them sharing a bed so soon, right? They're taking little steps closer, though!**

**As to Esme keeping tropical fish - I am not ignorant to the official PETA stance that any fish kept as pets is cruel, mostly because tanks are too small, too crowded, do not have the right salinity, or the fish in them are taken from the ocean because most tropical fish cannot be bred in captivity. However, that is PETA's opinion and PETA is always going to be in dramatic opposition. Whether they're right or not can rest with the experts; many agree that if tanks are large enough, monitored well enough, and have the right balance of cohabitating fish, keeping _freshwater_ tropical fish is more or less the same as keeping any other animal as a pet. The exception to this is goldfish and betta fish, who continually get the shaft as "first pets" for children. Obviously, I went down a rabbit hole when I was deciding what would make sense to get Esme and Bella in the same apartment, and I settled on fish because A., if you take care of tropical fish correctly it really _does_ take a considerable amount of work that would necessitate a house-sitting and B., I liked the Professor Cullen connection. There are of course hundreds of freshwater fish that can be kept as pets, so you can use your imagination for what Esme keeps.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay smart if you venture out for a worthy cause this week - and remember that standing as an ally requires a cultural shift on every level, so it's okay if your activism is with social media and donations. We all have our roles to play. **

**~Rae**


	36. the facetime of two uninvolved parties

**[Facetime]**

"So," Leah says, her face pulled into a disgruntled moue. The pixilated reflection of Facetime manages to capture her feelings exactly. "Bella and Alice are fighting."

"And not talking to each other, either," Rose adds. Her lips are downturned, a furrow between her brows that belies the unconcerned tone of her voice.

"Are pigs flying yet?" Leah wonders.

"Not in SoCal," Rose says. "The waters have been churning, though."

"The universe is thrown out of alignment."

"Oh, clearly. We're dealing with a catastrophic event here." Rose pauses for a short moment, leaning closer to her phone camera. "Do we know what they're fighting about?"

Leah snorts. "Bella is clueless. She has no idea, but she thinks something must have set Alice off."

"Alice is keeping her trap shut, too," Rose divulges.

"How totally not like that chatterbox," Leah notes with some concern. After all, a day without Alice chattering and chirping and buzzing around isn't really a day, is it?

"I know, right?"

"Bella moved out of the dorm."

Rose's brows shoot up. "Seriously?"

"She's a confrontation wimp."

"Yeah, but to just _leave_?"

Leah shrugs. "Alice was really upset, I guess. I mean, I don't know the details, but it would have to be major if Bella isn't even trying to reconcile."

"Damn," Rose sighs. "All the drama just has to happen when we're not even there to watch."

"Oh, please. We can see enough from this far away."

"That's true. But…"

"But?"

Rose presses her lips together. "Are we going to do anything about it?"

Leah barks out a loud, startling laugh. She laughs for long enough that her eyes actually tear up, and has to wipe them away. "Oh, fuck no," she says at length. "I'm not getting in the middle of whatever the fuck is happening there."

"She's your sister!" Rose exclaims.

"She also knows all of my passwords," Leah points out.

"Ah. Good point."

"Right?"

"Well, they're big girls," Rose acknowledges.

Leah nods. "They'll work it out."

"And we won't get involved."

"Hell," Leah says with wide eyes and a facetious tone. "We never even _talked_ about it."

"A conversation that never happened between two uninvolved parties," Rose agrees.

"We'll spit-shake on it later," Leah says seriously.

"Gross. Hard pass."

"Whatever."

They both roll their eyes.

The Facetime call ends.

* * *

**A/N: No meddling here! These are mature girls who mind their own damn business, which is something that is a lot more common in younger people. You do you, and you don't get involved in bullshit that isn't yours if you can help it. People's personal drama is their own thing to solve - or not solve. This stems from the idea of self-care, which can include Marie Kondo-ing people right out of your life if they don't spark joy.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, stay standing. **

**~Rae**


	37. chapter 18

**[chapter_18]**

The room Bella is staying in is a homage to world-travelers everywhere. _Kebi_, she thinks, _must be a very interesting person_. The entire bedroom is a cluttered, glorious mess of souvenirs and pieces of the world. Photographs, which Bella suspects were taken by Kebi herself, coat the walls haphazardly in studies of forests, animals, architecture, and people; between the photographs hang masks, rattles, ponchos, hats, and beaded necklaces; even the ceiling is home to hooks that hang delicate blown-glass balls, origami figures, and what look like prayer papers. The entire room is lit by twinkling fairy lights. The bed, covered by a Moroccan blanket and Persian-style pillows, is also cloaked by a translucent cream-colored mosquito net, which is also lined in lights and smaller trinkets hanging from safety pins.

There isn't a single plant in sight, which makes Bella think that Esme is probably the plant-lover between the two roommates. But all the same, she can easily see where Kebi's collections from her travels have bled out into the rest of the apartment. Her one glimpse of Esme's bedroom gave her an image of cleaner lines, starker colors, and a veritable greenhouse.

Bella's overwhelming impression of the entire apartment - and the women who live there - is one of worldliness she can never hope to achieve. She feels, in a way, _small_ amongst all this evidence of different cultures and plants and creatures. Growing up in Forks, the only exposure Bella had ever had to a broader culture was the Quileutes - but in this apartment, her eyes are opened again to the idea of a bigger world out there, just waiting to be experienced.

Bella hasn't ever wanted to travel, though. That's Leah. Bella is content to be still and remain in one place, perhaps more like Esme; her sister, then, is more like Kebi.

_Actually_, Bella thinks as she lays on Kebi's bed, limbs sprawled lazily as she cools down from a too-hot shower, _I can picture Leah in this bedroom, with all of these things_. For Bella, while all of this is very cool to see, she doesn't have the urge to go out in the world to start her own collection. If anything, she has an itch to visit a museum and learn more about these items.

The fact that they are here, though, and in such quantity does serve as a reminder that the world is much bigger than herself and her problems. Just like looking up at the stars on a clear night makes her feel insignificant, so too does looking at Kebi's collection of goods from around the world.

It really puts everything into perspective, and in a way, Bella feels at _peace_.

The world is large, but her problems are not. Everything will be resolved in its own time.

She lets it go. All of it.

* * *

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
****ʘ****designateddesigner **No water we die like men #wasabi #roomies  
_(Picture Attachment: Spicy tuna roll smothered in wasabi,_  
_held aloft by disposable wooden chopsticks.)_

E Platt **ʘ****designateddesigner  
**Here I am, using a fork for sushi, and I see this #isthisnormal  
_(Picture Attachments: The first picture is of Bella Swan, holding_  
_a spicy tuna roll with chopsticks, liberally topped with wasabi._  
_The second picture is Bella Swan smiling around chopsticks,_  
_clearly having just eaten the sushi from the previous picture.)_

**ʘ****maestro **Liked this Tweet

Carlisle Cullen **ʘ****gentlemanandscholar  
****ʘ****designateddesigner **As a physician I have Concerns

E Platt **ʘ****designateddesigner  
****ʘ****gentlemanandscholar **I have been Humbled

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**It's better with soy sauce! :)  
_(Picture Attachment: Wasabi and soy sauced mixed_  
_together in a small ceramic bowl, with sashimi being_  
_dipped into the concoction.)_

Seth Clearwater **ʘ****changethisquil  
**For the record it is not better with soy sauce at all, just more painful #neveragain

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete  
****ʘ****maestro **your girl is metal af lol

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete  
**Ehhhhh what am I seeing?!  
_(Picture Attachment: A photo taken over someone's_  
_shoulder, showing a computer screen scrolling through_  
_snack packages.)_

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete  
****ʘ****thelittlecygnet **I think you have #wasabinuts coming your way

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**Thank you **ʘ****maestro **^.^

* * *

Without the need to fill her time studying, Bella can turn to more enjoyable pursuits during her evenings at Esme's place. After all, when the water in the aquarium has been checked and adjusted, and the fish have been fed, and she has double-checked the cleanliness of the air pump, Bella still has a swath of hours to fill before bedtime. Gaming is, and always has been, her preferred way of filling up time.

There are plenty of things for Swansong to do. Understandably, because of finals, she'd had to miss her last guild meeting, and so she spends an entire afternoon making it up to the guild leader, Wanyin, by hunting down wildebeests to restock the guild's pantry for certain common materials. The next afternoon, Bella decides to catch up on her independent side quests because Masen is working late enough that he won't be able to make their regular gaming date, and with Esme away for the next two nights, she doesn't have much else to do anyway. Besides, it's nice getting lost in virtual reality for a while. She didn't realize how much she missed it until she got so caught up in other things.

Dawn of Warcraft is like coming home. It's a safe space where she doesn't have to think about anything other than her next move. Bella, situated with her laptop in the middle of Kebi's bed with twinkling lights all around her, lets herself be swept away into the quiet rhythm of her clacking keyboard and the battle music of the game. She's in the middle of tracking down the right NPC to begin another quest when a private chat dialogue pops up on the corner of her screen.

《 **Janeway**: Swansong!

《 **Janeway**: my greatest and most feared ally!

《 **Janeway**: I have a huge ask for you

》**Swansong**: let me guess

》**Swansong**: you need help with a quest

《 **Janeway**: you know me so well lol

《 **Janeway**: but also yes please help me, I'm tired of dying

Bella's lips twitch at the message, her head shaking fondly.

》**Swansong**: sure, I can help. I have time

《 **Janeway**: you're the best

《 **Janeway**: I'll even throw in a reward

》**Swansong**: I don't want the reward if its your usual currency

《 **Janeway**: oh please

《 **Janeway**: turn your nose up at it all you want but gossip serves its purpose!

《 **Janeway**: besides, you're gonna want to know about this anyway

Bella checks the map to find where Janeway is, and then transports herself there. Swansong materializes in the middle of a marsh, almost right on top of Janeway's avatar, right in front of a tunnel made of interwoven vines. Vineyard Swamp is home to a few eerie quests. Bella recognizes this one as one where the final boss, a massive swamp creature, winds up being a terrified villager who learned arcane skills to protect a rare fauna blessed by the Gods that has been under the threat of poaching. The first time Bella played this quest, she'd been charmed by the cartoonish storyline. The fact that the rare fauna gave her a quarter more HP limit wasn't a bad reward, either.

Bella resigns herself to being the recipient of unwanted news, even as she runs through her inventory to make sure she has the right requirements for the quest.

》**Swansong**: I'll bite. What is it this time?

《 **Janeway**: my, my what a polite request

《 **Janeway**: whatever

《 **Janeway**: so you'll be happy to know that chatter has finally died down

》**Swansong**: chatter?

《 **Janeway**: about the tournament?

《 **Janeway**: people were so pissed that you guys forfeited?

《 **Janeway**: do you seriously not remember?

Honestly, the tournament and whatever backlash came with it has been the furthest thing from Bella's mind for weeks. But she isn't surprised that it's taken _this long_ for opinions to mellow out again, especially when she knows tickets were bought with real-world money to watch a showdown that never happened. Gamers can hold a grudge.

》**Swansong**: oh that

《 **Janeway**: oh that, she says

《 **Janeway**: the one time I bring good news and that's all you have to say

》**Swansong**: well

》**Swansong**: it's good that people are less upset?

《 **Janeway**: my sleuthing efforts are truly wasted on you

Bella snorts indelicately, the sound loud in the relative quiet of the apartment. "Is it really sleuthing if you can find everything on the public chat?" she wonders wryly.

》**Swansong**: I appreciate your efforts lol I promise

》**Swansong**: it's just that I think gaming is supposed to be an escape from pressure

》**Swansong**: not a way to pile more pressure on

《 **Janeway**: ah well that's true

《 **Janeway**: I mean that's why I game

《 **Janeway**: RL comes with a lot of expectations, you know?

》**Swansong**: oh, I know

《 **Janeway**: there's always something in the works

《 **Janeway**: never can just have a quiet day in my house

《 **Janeway**: my family is just like that

Bella raises her brows. It's a very rare thing when Janeway talks about her real life, even in broad terms. They've been gaming friends for a long while, and the most details they've ever shared is the fact that they both have brothers, they were born in the same year, and their mothers are pieces of work. All other details have been skint, which is maybe the way it should be for casual gaming friends. To hear Janeway say anything remotely negative about her home life is a huge tip of the hat - to Bella, it sounds like Janeway is dealing with her own stress or interpersonal conflicts.

Bella doesn't want that for anyone, least of all herself or her friends. It's not fun.

》**Swansong**: it sounds like a lot

《 **Janeway**: oh it is, but I know how lucky I am

《 **Janeway**: I'm just saying, this is why gossip is my lifeblood lol

》**Swansong**: that's where we differ

》**Swansong**: I hope drama can stay away

《 **Janeway**: good luck with that lol

》**Swansong**: well that's ominous

On the screen, Janeway's avatar abruptly drops to the marshy ground and rolls on the floor. Bella watches, bewildered, until the private chat pings with another message.

《 **Janeway**: you can't see how much I'm laughing so my avatar is showing you

《 **Janeway**: but omfg lmao

《 **Janeway**: like yeah it's ominous

《 **Janeway**: you think it's ever calm for people like you?!

《 **Janeway**: stop being exceptional and then you can have a normal life! lol

》**Swansong**: cue existential dread

》**Swansong**: I really hope you're wrong about that lol

And it's true. Because while Janeway might be right - and she is because that's a logical leap that the more _seen_ someone is, the more likely it is that they'll be talked about - that doesn't mean Bella has to like it. Not at all.

And what can she do to stop being oh-so-exceptional? Bella hasn't ever set out to be anything other than herself, so she's at a loss to how to _not_ be that way. Bella is just _Bella_ \- but this serves as a sharp, visceral reminder that no matter how humbly Bella thinks she leads her life, there will always be someone else ready to point out the exact opposite. The other day it was Alice; today it is Janeway; next week, when she goes back to Midnight Sun, it will probably be Peter when he inevitably jams the printer _again_ and she is tapped to fix it.

_People like you_. What is it that makes her so different? How is it that she can feel normal, but everyone else sees something else entirely?

It's a question that follows her, even as she guides Janeway through the swamp quest and to the rare fauna prize. It follows her as she brushes her teeth, as she sets her alarm, as she lays down to sleep, curled around her phone as she and Masen text their _good-nights_.

How can she feel average but not be average? Is her perception messed up, or is everyone else wrong?

She doesn't know. She wishes she did.

* * *

**2 Girls + 1 Baby (Group Chat)**

The Sweet One  
Do you think I'm normal?

Baby Bro  
Hell no  
You're super strange

The Salty One  
Obviously  
I mean, I tape a vlog about you  
That doesn't happen to normies

The Sweet One  
No I mean  
I don't know what I mean  
Just forget it

Baby Bro  
I for one cant forget it  
Mostly bc I don't know what  
you're talking about  
So

The Salty One  
You're not weird, if that helps  
You're normal in every sense of the word  
Except for how entertaining you are

The Sweet One  
Thanks. I think  
None of this really helps though

The Salty One  
Is this about Alice?

Baby Bro  
Oooh yeah  
I heard about that girl fight  
Nasty stuff

The Sweet One  
I was just thinking  
Like  
Maybe there's some merit to what  
she said

The Salty One  
If you'd tell me what she said  
i would maybe be able to help

Baby Bro  
That's a hint  
Just in case anyone missed it  
I am also dying to know

The Sweet One  
It's nothing  
Really  
I'm overthinking

The Salty One  
Uh huh

Baby Bro  
I mean  
I'm not going to disagree lol

The Sweet One  
Gee thanks

* * *

Bella has absolutely no plans come Saturday and she spends the morning lazing around. Lazing, not _moping_, because moping would imply that she's bothered by something, when actually, she isn't bothered at all. Okay. Maybe she's bothered a _little_ bit, but not enough to mope.

And is it really moping when it's a morning of self-care? Bella doesn't think so. Queuing up _The Daily Show_ on Esme's modest TV, Bella spends the morning listening to Trevor Noah make humorous social and political commentary while she plows her way through two bowls of Fruity Pebbles - and how fun is it that Esme keeps _that_ stocked? - and then sets to the tenuous task of doing her own manicure. It's nothing fancy because all of the stuff she usually uses is back at the dorm, but she can at least remove her old polish, clean up her cuticles, and even out the filing. By the time she steps out of a steaming shower in the early afternoon, Bella is clean and soft and more settled - both in her own skin and in the apartment. She dresses in a floaty, strap-sleeved nightgown that _could_ pass as daywear, tidies up after herself, and collapses sideways onto the couch.

Thoroughly relaxed, Bella mindlessly watches the next two episodes of _The Daily Show's_ backlog, texts her siblings, and scrolls through all of her social media accounts. Mid-afternoon, she rises to putter around the aquarium, running through all the tasks Esme walked her through. The pH level needs to be adjusted, which she does by following the notes Esme left to the letter, but after that, Bella is out of _tasks_ to fill her time. She's on the cusp of seriously committing to spending the next eight hours - or until the urge to nap strikes her - gaming under one of her accounts when there is a buzz at the intercom by the door.

The intercom is something Esme and Kebi had elected to install on their door as an added safety measure. Although the tall apartment complex is guarded by a gate, the code is only necessary after 10PM, which is when the gate automatically shuts; otherwise, the complex is open to anyone who passes by. When Esme was giving Bella a tour of the place, she had been sure to emphasize how important it was for young women who live alone in larger cities to have as many extra security measures as possible - and she impressed upon Bella that she wasn't to let anyone in who refused to use the intercom.

Well, here it is, being used.

Bella turns to stare at the intercom, which buzzes again. Not impatiently, but almost as if in continuation of the first buzz. Her feet carry her to the panel on the wall and she presses the button with a hesitant, "Hello?"

_"Bella."_

"_Masen_?" Bella asks, not bothering to mask the incredulity in her voice. "Did I know he was coming?" she wonders to herself, not realizing that she is still holding down the button until a huff of laughter comes over the intercom.

"_I thought I would surprise you_," Masen says. "_Let me in?"_

Heat high in her face at her fumble, Bella manages to agree. She hesitates when her fingers move to unlock the door, sparing a brief thought about the fact that she's in her pajamas in the middle of the day - hopefully, they look nice enough that she'll just seem like she's wearing a very casual sundress, and he won't notice, and she'll be saved from _more_ embarrassment.

Seeing the way Masen's eyes trail over her when she opens the door, and the way his lips tilt into a fine smirk, Bella doesn't think it's very likely. Not much gets past Masen, not even women's nightwear that tries to pass as a daytime dress.

Too bad.

Masen, at least, is dressed equally casually in comfortable deep green joggers, a white tee with a Slytherin graphic, and plain sneakers. Curiously, he is also holding a brown paper bag at his side, which is the source of a deliciously spicy scent that immediately has her stomach grumbling.

Masen quirks a brow as she steps aside to let him in and, sourly, she thinks it isn't at all surprising which House he'd been sorted into. Consummate Slytherin that one, no doubt about it.

"I hope I didn't interrupt," Masen says as he smoothly steps out of his shoes, leaving them by the front door and heading straight to the kitchen. It occurs to her that Masen must have been here before. It also occurs to her that Masen _knows_ he wasn't interrupting anything because, by way of his brother, he would know that Esme didn't plan to be home this weekend at all.

_Such a schemer_, she can't help but think fondly.

"Not at all," she says. She trails after him to stand at the entry of the kitchen-dining area, watching as he unloads a ghastly amount of food in Styrofoam containers onto the counters. He turns to the drawers, seemingly searching for something, and Bella says, "Forks are on the left."

Masen shoots her an appreciative smile. He then reaches into his pockets, digs out an Amazon Fire stick, and tosses it underhand to her, eyes glimmering when she just barely catches it. "I have all the Studio Ghibli films," he tells her. "Cue something up and we'll watch some."

Bella's eyes light up. She tucks the stick drive close to her chest. "We're watching _Kiki's Delivery Service_ first," she declares seriously, leaving no room for argument as she dashes off to fiddle with the TV.

Masen chuffs behind her, but he doesn't insist on a different movie. By the time she's got it all figured out, Masen has loaded the coffee table down with food, glasses of water, and extra napkins. They settle down beside each other as the opening credits begin to roll, knees pressed snugly together as food is distributed.

"This is Thai, right?" she checks because she only recognizes a few dishes by sight.

"Pad Thai," Masen says, gesturing with his fork. "Pad Krapow Gai. Green curry. Drunken noodles -"

"Drunken noodles?" Bella laughs, twisting her fork around the indicated dish. She takes a bite to taste and then makes an appreciative noise when her mouth tingles at the spice.

"I asked for the spiciest items on the menu," Masen explains, watching her with a cool expression, save for the unmistakable warmth around his eyes. "Spicy enough?"

Bella nods her head rapidly. "Oh, I think so," she says, happily helping herself to another forkful.

Masen hums with the barest hint of a smile and turns to his own food. The next long while is devoted to eating and watching Kiki's shenanigans. Seated next to each other, both of them watching the animated movie with rapt attention, Bella can almost feel all of her worries dissolving. Masen is here and with him, he has brought the comfort, the steady dependability she has come to associate with him.

As the movie plays, Bella finds herself leaning closer to Masen's warmth bit by bit, unconsciously seeking a shield from the AC filtering from the ceiling. Masen allows this, shifting to give her just enough room so that she can press her cheek to the knob of his shoulder. She stays there until the final credits start rolling, and by that time, her stomach pleasantly full and nostalgia tugging at her mind, she feels far more open than she ever has in his presence. It's like that final piece of self-censure and self-consciousness slips away.

"Which was your first?"

Masen tilts his head to see her better. "_Castle in the Sky_. Yours?"

"We just watched it," she reveals, and Masen's solemn expression lightens to amusement. "Which is your favorite, then?"

"You first," he challenges. "Or should I guess?"

Bella shifts, leaning away from his shoulder so she can situate herself on her knees, her body completely facing his. "Guess," she tells him.

Masen's moves so that his back is reclining more firmly against the couch behind them, one leg stretching out beneath the coffee table while the other remains bent, pressed against hers. "There are a few possibilities," he decides.

"Oh?" she asks with interest. Privately, she can't quite decide if he knows her well enough to guess correctly or not.

"Most people say _Spirited Away_ or _Howl's Moving Castle_, and you like those films as much as everyone else. Obviously _Kiki's Delivery Service _is a close second. But," he pauses, narrowing his eyes in thought. "You tend to like overarching themes better, so I think your favorite is _Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind_. Am I wrong?"

Bella, torn between gaping and laughing in delight, manages to make a sound of disbelief. "That's the one," she confirms. "It doesn't get enough attention, but it has such a profound message."

"Mm-hmm."

Bella eyes him thoughtfully. "My turn?"

"You can try," he replies peaceably as if he isn't throwing down a gauntlet.

Bella taps her finger against the grain of the coffee table. "Most people say _Spirited Away _or _Howl's Moving Castle_," she parrots, a sly smile playing on her lips. "You like those movies too, but your _real_ favorite is _My Neighbor Totoro_, because you have a soft spot for optimism, even if you pretend you don't."

Masen's eyes widen, the amusement dropping off his face.

Bella giggles. "That, and don't think I didn't notice that mug in your kitchen. Or your toothbrush holder. Or that teeny-tiny charm on your keychain."

Masen's ears turn red, his lips pressing together, and his eyes flick away.

"You're such a fanboy," she tells him between giggles. "You even had it as your last watched movie on your account."

"An oversight," he declares.

Bella's giggles turn into laughter, her body swaying to the side to rest along the coffee table as she laughs and laughs - and then her laughs turn into shrieking laughter when fingers dance across her ribs. Bella squirms as Masen tickles her in the pettiest revenge known to man and eventually her squirming lands her half-sprawled across his lap. Masen is smiling at her with a unfettered warmth as she catches her breath, his hand smoothing the hair from her face and off her neck.

"I'm wise to your ways now," she tells him, more breath than speech.

"Is that so?" Masen raises a brow, his eyes shifting down to her mouth, voice filled with mirth. "You have something on your lips."

Bella gasps, her cheeks heating up as she straightens from her inelegant sprawl. She wipes at her lips, not quite frantic but almost, in an attempt to remove the sauce she is _absolutely certain_ is still lingering on her face. God, but she can be such a messy eater! And she's been talking to Masen with food on her lips for _how long_ now?

She sorely wishes for a hole to crawl into until the embarrassment abates, but seeing as how one does not miraculously materialize, she is left to lick her lips. "Did I get it?"

Masen shakes his head, eyes heavy, all traces of his own embarrassment vanished. "No. Here, let me," he murmurs, reaching up to grasp her chin with his thumb. He closes the distance between them, gaze dropping to her lips as he tilts his head _just-so_.

Bella has a moment to realize that Masen is about to kiss her - and that he was probably _lying_ about the food on her mouth and using it as a preface to kiss her - before his breath is warming the sensitive skin of her lips. There is a touch of warmth, maybe the weight of an exhale, the tiniest butterfly of pressure that has her lips fluttering closed - and then -

And then there is the distinct sound of keys jiggling in the lock of the front door.

There are only three people who have keys to this apartment, four if she counts the landlord. One is Bella, another is Esme, and the third is Kebi. Since Kebi is currently out of the country and Bella is already in the living room, that leaves Esme.

Which means Esme is _home_ when she isn't supposed to be.

Bella shoots away from Masen like she's on fire. She snags his wrist, pulling him up, and then tries to push him out of the living room with a frantic, foot-hopping shuffle that matches her racing heart. She's not really thinking anything other than _he kissed me_ and _Esme is home_ and _we almost got caught, _none of which are helpful to cooling the heat from her skin.

Masen, for his part, is allowing himself to be towed and tugged toward the kitchen - no, the bathroom is better - with a slight furrow in his brow. He clearly doesn't understand the gravity of the situation and she doesn't really have the time to explain it to him, because as soon as he opens his mouth to surely ask what her deal is, Esme's voice is calling out for her and Bella, experiencing a very juvenile urge to hide her romantic behavior, slaps a hand over Masen's mouth.

Masen's eyes are wide and his brows are raised in surprise. Bella, meanwhile, is cringing at her gall and clearing her throat and saying, "You're home!" with barely-tinged panic audible in her tone.

From the front of the apartment, Esme's voice calls again. "Yeah! It turns out I forgot to pack a few things," she calls back.

"Oh!" Bella drops her voice and looks up at Masen with a fierce whisper. "Get in the bathroom!"

Masen shakes his head.

"Carlisle is here, too!" Esme's voice carries along cheerfully. "I figured since he didn't tell me about our dinner reservations, the least he could do is help me pick out an appropriate dress."

"I did share the plans on our Google calendar," comes a plaintive male voice, which Bella surmises is Carlisle. "Google must not have synched it."

"So you keep saying," Esme laughs breezily, and then her footsteps are coming down the hall, ever closer to the living room where Bella has Masen backed up to the bathroom door, a hand over his mouth.

Bella shoots Masen a wide-eyed frantic look.

Masen shakes his head again, in denial or refusal she doesn't know - and then she feels his lips pressed to her palm. Bella gasps and pulls her hand back and she is greeted by Masen's victorious smirk. With footsteps still coming down the hall, Bella doesn't have any wherewithal to guard against Masen's quick maneuvering. In a flash, Masen has her off-balance as she is pulled to his chest with an arm looped around her waist, her hands splayed and trapped between them as his head dips again, stealing a brief kiss just as Esme and a blond man she assumes is Carlisle step into the living room.

Masen pulls back with a smirk and Bella, unwilling to meet the eyes of anyone else in the room, buries her face against his throat.

The silence that follows is awkward, save for Esme's poorly-muffled titters.

"Well," Carlisle says after a beat. "It's nice to see Masen being so…playful. I suppose I have you to thank for that. Bella, right?"

Bella lifts her head, her face hot as she meets her boyfriend's brother for the first time in a compromising position. "Hi," she manages, then thumps Masen on the chest when he has the cheek to wink at her.

Masen, completely unrepentant, greets the others smoothly. "Carlisle. Esme."

"Masen," Esme returns, before she shifts a keen eye to Bella, eyes twinkling. "It's a good thing you're here. Carlisle surprised me with dinner reservations and I need help picking out something appropriate."

"I thought I was doing that," Carlisle says.

Esme shoots him a _look_. "Bella can do it."

"Ah. Right. Of course, another woman's eye is much more discerning."

"Exactly." Esme smiles a tad too sharp and through the force of her determination manages to wrangle Bella from Masen's arms, albeit in such a friendly, kind way it doesn't seem like that's what she is doing in the first place. Between one moment in the next, Bella finds herself ushered into Esme's bedroom, where she closes the door, turns to look at Bella with dancing eyes, and demands, "Dish! What was _that_ I just walked in on?"

Bella covers her face with her hands and releases some hellish hybrid of a groan and a squeak. "I'm going to kick him in the shins," she threatens feebly. Her lips are still tingling, her hair standing on ends, a flutter in her chest.

"I find that kissing is more effective," Esme says teasingly.

Bella peeks at Esme, her lip caught between her teeth. It's just her imagination that she can taste Masen there because that kiss had been barely more than a brush of the lips - but it was still a _kiss_.

"First time?" Esme asks sympathetically.

"So many firsts," Bella answers without thinking. "He's too sly."

Esme laughs. "Cullen boys can be that way. Carlisle finagled me into a serious relationship after only a few dates, and this was after I expressly told him I wasn't looking for anything serious. And yet, here I am, two years later and madly in love."

"Why are they like this?" Bella complains, flopping back on Esme's bed.

Esme clicks her tongue and pulls open her closet door. "It's the Cullen charm," she says. "Wait until you meet their father, Thomas. You'll be swooning."

"Masen's adopted," Bella reminds her.

"Nurture over nature," Esme retorts swiftly. "Besides, some men just come by that kind of cunning naturally. You're still young. You'll learn."

Privately, Bella doesn't particularly feel inclined to learn about the flirtatious nature of other men at all during this lifetime. It was already so awe-inspiring to be able to feel these things for Masen - she can't imagine coming across the depths of these feelings again. And even if she's a little cross with his kiss-theft, Bella can't say she's _angered_ over it. They were going to kiss already. If anything, Masen managed to make it _memorable_ and, as his brother had so aptly said, playful.

Bella smiles to herself. Masen being playful is a good thing, she thinks. Worth a little mortification.

"Which is more appropriate for a proposal?" Esme asks, holding up two dresses, one a plum boat-neck shift, and the other a creamy sweetheart neckline with a twirling hem.

Bella pops up. "A _proposal_?"

Esme peers at her from around the dresses. "I'm pretty sure. Carlisle can be romantic, but going out of his way to arrange a reservation at a fancy restaurant right before the anniversary of our first date? That's a little over the top, don't you think?"

"Maybe…?"

"Plus I saw the ring box last week," Esme adds.

Bella squints. "But if you already suspected, then why didn't you have a dress packed?"

"And reveal that I already have him figured out?" Esme shakes her head. "You have to let men think they win sometimes. It's good for their egos. Now, which dress? I'm leaning toward the cream."

"The lace on it is nice," Bella agrees. She doesn't have much to offer because this _definitely_ isn't her realm of expertise, not even a little, but she thinks that, if Alice were here, she would choose the same.

Esme nods. Placing the dress down on the bed, she moves back to the closet to dig out lovely peep-toe heels in a nutty brown leather, and then also pulls out a small velvet box. The box she hands to Bella and, without any further adieu, changes her clothes right in the middle of her bedroom. Bella averts her eyes from Esme's womanly confidence and dares to open the box. Nestled inside deep red velvet is, of all things, a ring. The ring is fairly masculine, a wide band with three stones inset on the top.

"Esme," she starts with wonder lacing her voice. "Are you going to propose, too?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Esme queries, wiggling around to zip up the cream dress and smoothing the collar out. "Marriage is a two-way street. If he gets to propose to me, I get to propose to him. Fair, right?"

Bella thinks Esme is a living _icon_. Absolute legend right here, fluffing her hair and adjusting her heels, tucking the ring box into a discreet purse that hangs from her shoulder with a long, glittering strap.

"How do I look?" Esme asks.

Bella can't help but grin. "Like you're about to steal his thunder."

"As it should be!" Esme turns to the door, but stops and spins on a dime. She gestures to her bedside table. "I almost forgot! Condoms are in the second drawer. Don't be shy about using them, it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Esme!" Bella cries out. "Oh, my God!"

Esme laughs, pats Bella on the head, and struts out of her bedroom, preening at the way Carlisle stares at her as if dumbstruck. Bella follows behind her, coming to a stop near the couch, studiously avoiding looking at Masen, mostly because the phrase _condoms are in the second drawer_ keeps circling around her head and she's afraid that if she looks at Masen _right now_ then he'll somehow _know_.

It's all for naught, too, because after Esme and Carlisle leave for dinner and Bella has settled onto the couch, Masen proceeds to conversationally say, "My brother wanted to remind me to _be safe_."

Bella's cheeks flare red again, so quickly she's almost dizzy with it. "Oh, God."

"Apparently Esme keeps condoms in her bedroo-"

A pillow hits Masen squarely in the face. It bounces off his chest and onto his lap, and Masen looks at her in shock for a moment. She meets his stare with a silent dare, holding another pillow in her hands that is ready to be thrown, as well.

Masen smirks. "I'm sorry. You're just so cute when you blush that I can't resist."

And then he winks.

_This is war_, Bella realizes. And without any warning, she throws the pillow at him and then reaches for another, rocking onto her knees to clobber him with it. Deep chuckles fill the air as Masen ducks around her uncoordinated attack and draws her right up to his chest. Even as she is thumping a pillow across his shoulders, he presses a kiss to her cheek.

Bella stops and notes her position, which has her straddled over one of his legs, her stomach pressed against his chest, and Masen bending his neck back to look up at her. His eyes are bright, glimmering with tender amusement.

Bella drops the pillow she was using to hit him with.

And then she drops her own kiss onto his lips.

It's electrifyingly perfect.

* * *

[tumblr]

**forthright_foresight  
**I want to be the one who is seen

**Miraculous_AlwaysTheBest  
**I want to be the one in the scene

**tellingtasertaster  
**I want the scene to seem serene

**CueColdplayLyrics  
**Hey OP have you tried screaming?

**forthright_foresight  
**I don't think it helps

* * *

Interning at Midnight Sun, Bella thinks, will always be an experience. There is so much to be done everyday, but no two days seem to be the same. She doesn't know if this is because the company is still a fledgling, or if it's because of how organic the environment is. While Monday finds Bella whiling away the hours working as Alistair's literal right hand as they finalize the last of the character designs for Menagerie, Tuesday finds Bella skipping between departments for various reasons - finding a replacement ethernet cable for Programming, helping Emmett untangle the cloud access for Development, and acting as a makeshift receptionist for Masen, who spends half the day in back-to-back meetings. It's only toward the end of the day when she manages to catch a break, and even then, that break is cut short by the yell Peter lets loose when he returns to his desk after a quick standing meeting with Emmett.

"Fuck me!" Peter exclaims, instantly drawing the attention of everyone in the room, including Masen, who is frowning at the computer in the private office. "Not again! This is the third time just today! Whoever is behind this prank," Peter says louder, standing with his hands on his hips. "It's not funny anymore! I'm not laughing!"

Seeing that, although curious, nobody is willing to wade into Peter's upset, Bella volunteers. She doesn't miss the way several of the others relax as she eases around the computer clusters to reach Peter's side, and she barely resists a scowl. What, just because she's the only girl, she's the only one brave enough to contend with a fellow employee's emotions? Well. If it were anyone other than Peter, see how much empathy she'll have the next time someone gets worked up! As it is, Peter is a friend now and he seems to evoke feelings one might have for a small animal.

Bella rounds to Peter's side. "What's wrong? What's going on?"

Peter gestures broadly to his computer with a greatly aggrieved expression. "My wallpaper! Look at it!" he near-wails.

Bella does look at his desktop wallpaper. Honestly, what first catches her eye is the disorganized assortment of programs on his desktop, which would drive her batty but which seem appropriate for Peter's personality. The image set as the wallpaper is apparently the culprit, although she can't see anything _wrong_ with it, per se. It's a front-face view of an old red-and-gold building done in ancient Chinese architecture, the roof curling upward in spiked points.

She isn't sure what the problem is. "It's…a nice building," she hazards.

Peter sputters his disbelief. "A nice building? A nice - no! No, it's not nice. It's not nice at all!"

Bella searches for the nearest source of help, which she thinks might be Emmett. She gives him a helpless sort of shrug and a pointed look and then Emmett heaves a put-out sigh, trudging over to investigate.

Emmett, taller than the others, has to bend over to get a good look at the screen. He snorts. "Okay, what is that?"

Peter scrubs at his face. "I didn't know at first either, so I Googled a reverse image of it. And do you know what Google said? Google said it's a fucking monastery!" There are chuckles from around the room, because Peter's outrage is entertaining, even if he does whirl around and stab accusing fingers at them in retaliation. "Don't laugh, fuckers! Do you know what I had here before? A living work of art!"

"Wasn't it just Margot Robbie?" someone whispers.

"Yeah," comes the reply. "Dressed as Harley Quinn."

"Huh."

"Well, I would consider that a living work of art, wouldn't you?"

"That entire costume is fan service!" another says in a heated whisper.

There is a repressed groan. "Here we go."

"Look, there's _no reason_ Harley Quinn would ever-"

"It's for a movie, man!"

"The point is-"

"Excuse me!" Peter cuts in with a wild flail of his arms. "Can we focus on the _real _problem? Which one of you fuckwits is the one behind this? Is it you, Liam?"

"No," Liam says flatly.

Peter squints at him. "I don't believe you. You have guilt written all over your face!"

"That's just his face," Charles says helpfully.

Both Liam and Alistair roll their eyes.

Peter doesn't seem convinced, but he does turn his attention to the supposed second-most-likely to prank him. "Emmett. It was you, wasn't it!"

"You really think I have time to dick around with your screensaver?" Emmett asks.

Peter opens his mouth to retort, but Bella cuts him off. "Can't you just change it back?"

In reply, Peter makes a sour face. "I can't."

"What?"

"I can't change it back," Peter explains. "I've tried. Unlike the other times, this wallpaper is locked in there."

Emmett whistles lowly. Bella is similarly impressed. Remotely changing someone's wallpaper is easy enough if you have the right software, but to lock the image in place? That speaks to some level of expertise. While she doesn't doubt that any of the Midnight Sun staff could figure out how to do something like that, to put so much effort into a prank when they're all so busy seems unrealistic.

Which means that this whole thing seems suspicious.

Apparently, Masen has reached the same conclusion. From the doorway of the private office, Masen says, "Someone is sending you a message."

"No shit!" Peter cries out. "They want me to be a monk!"

Emmett scoffs. "Or maybe they're saying you have bad taste."

"Or," Bella hastily cuts in, before Peter can shoot off another retort. "Maybe they want you to focus on your work."

"I'm focused!" Peter snaps, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. "I'm _so_ focused, like, all the time."

Bella very much doubts that.

"Let me see," Masen says, squeezing through the congregation around Peter's desk. He sits down and with a few deft strokes of the keyboard, pulls up an administrator dialogue and diagnostics window. Masen works quickly, scrolling through white letters on a black backdrop for several minutes before he finds a section of code, which he highlights, erases, and rewrites. Behind the dialogue, the desktop screen shifts to a picture of Margot Robbie as Harley Quinn. Masen closes down the windows, then spins around in the chair. He looks at Peter with a blank expression for several moments, and then he says, "Let me handle this."

Peter gapes. "Handle _what_?"

Instead of answering, Masen stands from the chair and claps Peter on the shoulder. "It's fixed now. Get back to work."

Bella trots after Masen as the others disperse to find stopping points for their current projects before they leave for the day. She doesn't buy it for a minute that the problem is fixed - or, well, maybe the wallpaper is fixed, but the reason behind it isn't resolved. She waits until they reach the private office before she asks. "Is everything okay?"

Masen hums. "It will be."

"What was that all about, then?" Bella pushes. "It wasn't a prank, was it?"

Masen shakes his head. "Not a prank. But I recognize the coding and I think I know who's behind it."

Bella stares at him because _he recognizes the coding_? She doesn't even know what to _do_ with that. She's not at a point in her own software programming where she can tell the difference between coding styles if the codes are in the same language, but here Masen is, saying it so casually. Not only does he recognize the coding, but he can link it to a specific person. Amazing.

"Don't worry about it," Masen tells her, voice smooth and soothing. "I have it handled."

Well. Of that Bella has no doubt.

* * *

Bella  
Hey Ali  
Can we talk?

Bella  
I'm here to listen when you're ready

Bella  
Take your time

* * *

Bella loses herself in the bustle of work. No matter where she is or what she's doing, she finds a wondrous amount of fulfillment at Midnight Sun. She isn't coddled or given easy work to complete, and she also isn't given work that is vastly out of her expertise. Charles and Liam in particular seem keen to train her up, in part to make up for Alistair's inability to do anything other than directing until his cast is off, and in part because they seem to think she can manage profession-level renderings by herself. She takes it as a compliment and strives to rise to the challenges they set.

By the end of her first official week, she's certain that most of the others see her less as a token female in the company, and more as another one of the boys. She isn't perturbed by this at all. In fact, in many ways, she feels at ease with the way they jostle and tease and roughhouse - it all reminds her of the La Push boys, and she finds it very easy to fit in with this crowd. She spends her days floating along the currents, filling her time with whatever tasks need to be completed. She likes the work and is content to work as late as the others, especially when the weekly deadlines near and the small company pools all their resources to meeting the timeline Masen has crafted.

Which is perhaps why she's so surprised when Masen pulls her aside Friday afternoon with instructions to get changed into something "comfortable that can get wet." He dismisses her before the workday is finished and says that he'll be picking her up from Esme's place at six.

Right on the dot, Masen arrives and ushers her into an Uber. He doesn't say where they're going, so when the car stops at a marine animal rehabilitation clinic, Bella is more than a little surprised. Although, now she's glad she followed his instructions. Wearing simple rose-colored linen shorts and a cotton high-necked tank-top over a swimsuit Esme let her borrow, Bella feels like she is dressed for the occasion.

"Are we here for a tour?" she asks, her hand caught in his as he leads them into the building.

"More than a tour," Masen answers. He signs them in and the receptionist, who apparently recognizes him on the spot, is quick to wave them through to the private part of the facilities.

As they walk further into the rehabilitation spaces, Bella is inundated with the squeaking, chattering, and splashing sounds of marine animals. She recognizes the high-pitched noise made by dolphins and is struck by a wave of excitement.

"My mother is a fellow here," Masen says, easily navigating toward a wide space of an open pool of water. He steps up to the edge of the pool, indicating a dark splotch moving beneath the surface. "This is Leslie, a rescued orca who is set to be released soon."

Bella grips his hand tighter. "You brought me to see an orca?" she breathes in awe. Because it must have been _months_ ago when she mentioned in passing how much she would like to see an orca whale up close because seeing them off the coast of First Beach is always such a fleeting thing. To think that he remembered and that he went through the effort to arrange this, especially when she _knows_ exactly how busy work keeps him…

Bella wants to kiss him. So she does, surging up to the tips of her toes to capture his lips in a quick kiss. Enthusiasm keeps her from lingering, and as she pulls back she smiles broadly at him and tugs on his arm. "Let's get closer," she wheedles.

Masen's lips twitch. "That was the plan."

It takes a moment for the double entendre to manifest and when it does, Bella shoots him a scandalized, red-faced look.

Masen lifts his brows. "We're here to get closer to the orca, aren't we?"

Bella doesn't buy his innocent act, not for a single second, but she can't find it in herself to chastise him, either. "What do we do now?" she asks when they reach the portion of the pool that slopes down into the deeper water.

Masen drops her hand to remove his shoes, and she quickly mimics him, even as he steps aside to locate lifejackets in the right sizes. He helps her into hers before he puts on his own, then he calls out for a man named Amun, who is the lead rehabilitation specialist on sight. Amun greets Masen with great familiarity and welcomes Bella warmly.

Masen dips his head to explain. "I used to volunteer here during high school. Amun works with my mother and was charged with showing me the ropes."

Bella makes a sound of comprehension. "Did you like working here?"

"Mm."

At Masen's silent urging, Bella takes her first steps onto the sloping concrete of the pool, wading in until she is thigh-deep in the tepid water. Her eyes lock onto the water, watching avidly as the orca's svelte shape circles around closer to the crest.

"Leslie has been with us for about seven months," Amun explains. "She was two years old when a harpoon struck the base of her dorsal fin. When she surfaces, you'll see the scar. It's taken a while for everything to heal, but we're satisfied that Leslie is healthy enough to be released back to the wild."

And indeed, when Leslie does decide to come to the surface, there is a jagged, pale scar right at the bottom of her top-most fin. Bella's first thought is that Amun was underselling the industry; even Bella's untrained eyes can see how much damage that harpoon did to the dorsal fin, because the scar reaches around clear through the other side, almost like it was a sound meant to debilitate. Her stomach churns with unease at the very thought of how cruel some people can be.

But all the same, Leslie seems like a friendly creature. Her first visit is to Amun, who she nudges at as if seeking food. Amun beckons Bella and Masen closer, and Bella is struck with a clammy sort of giddiness mixed with a sustained sense of awe. Under her hand, Leslie is smooth and slick, and so _real_ and beautiful that Bella is crying before she even realizes it.

Masen, standing at her back, presses his hand beside hers, warm and secure.

"Happens all the time," Amun says kindly. "They're gorgeous creatures, aren't they? Leslie is strong. I'm glad she's ready to go home."

"Me too," Bella manages, and Masen kisses her temple.

It might be one of the most memorable, awe-inspiring, life-changing moments in her life.

She can't imagine sharing it with anyone other than Masen.

* * *

Swanning **ʘ****swanning_twitch  
**Hey Swanners! Sorry about the delay! The next stream will be a double-hour from my temporary new space! #couchsurfing #DOW #dungeonparty #butnotlikethat

AJ ʘtypeAgamer  
I too surf on couches and the couches surf on me

Queso Forever ʘq_ed  
Nice #shitpost ʘtypeAgamer

Darlene ʘdeardirt  
Hey **ʘ****swanning_twitch **can you cover the Dread Cave, because I keep trying and I keep dying #nothereforit #endmymisery

Swanning **ʘ****swanning_twitch  
**ʘdeardirt I'm ready to kick steampunk butt, how about you?

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was kind of a mixed bag, huh? It matched my mood for the week, which was erratic at best. But! Things are coming together! Resolutions and stuff! Plus, did you catch a certain new handle?**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay inside, stay safe, stay smart - and stay fired up, because now is not the time to get bored with the movement and get lax, because that's what they're counting on to halt change!**

**~Rae**


	38. twitch live stream: deardirts dread cave

[Twitch - Live Stream]

**Swanning  
**Dawn of Warcraft

(The live streams opens to a wide-view shot of a significantly different environment than the one Swanning usually films in. Although only part of the location is visible, there are unique points that draw the eye, from fuchsia-blooming potted plants sitting on a nearby table to the richly-crafted pillows that look like they've been plucked straight out of East Asia. Over Swanning's shoulder is a large aquarium with a handful of gorgeous tropical fish.

Swanning herself sits in the center of the frame. Her hair is done up in two space buns and she wears a loose-collared tee with Ms. Pacman front and center. To eagle-eyed regular viewers, Swanning looks a little wan and tired, but overall happy with a glimmer of brightness in her olive eyes.

"Hey, guys! Swanning here with another live stream," she greets, waving awkwardly at the camera. She drops her hand and gestures to the place around her with a wry expression. "As you can see, I'm not at my usual space. These days I'm couch-surfing and babysitting fish. Look, guys! It's a guppy! Isn't it cute?"

**/deardirt/** aren't guppies orange?

**/deardirt/** why is this one rainbow?

**/vern/ **that's goldfish stupid

Swanning's eyes drop to the chat. She scans the dialogue then laughs a little. "Ahhh, yeah, _deardirt_ isn't the only one who thought guppies were orange. I was also surprised," Swanning says with a self-deprecating smile. She twists around to look at the aquarium, then points at one of the larger fish. "See that one, with all the pretty colors? That's a, uh….hold on, I know it…Oh! Discus! That's a Discus. It has a sister somewhere…Anyway, that is one super fussy fish. Gives me all kinds of trouble."

**/vern/ **how much trouble could a fish give you

**/pedro/ **idk you seem to give her all sorts of trouble and you're just a troll

**/deardirt/ **boys, boys, save the posturing for later

**/KLR/** men

**/KLR/** they even get worked up about fish

"Play nice," Swanning warns, softening it with a smile. She sighs, straightens her back, and says, "Alright, enough about the fish. I'm sorry, but they've been, like, my whole world all day and since they're kind of the reason I have a place to sleep tonight…Ah. Anyway! I was scrolling through the replies to my last Twitter post and _deardirt_ had a request for a Dread Cave tutorial. So, that's what we're doing today."

**/KLR/** lucky!

**/deardirt/ **girls helping girls

**/deardirt/ **I stan a legend

**/deardirt/ **also THANK YOU

Swanning smiles, her lips turning up into a small grin that dimples her freckled cheeks. She switches the screen focus, placing herself in the top right corner and the desktop view of her Dawn of Warcraft account at the focal. Swanning shifts into the game play, wasting no time pulling up the map.

"Alright. So, how much do you guys know about the Dread Cave?"

**/deardirt/ **I know it's a pain in my ass

**/q_ed/ **same

**/KLR/** ditto

**/vern/** I know nothing about it makes sense

**/vern/** the fuck is steampunk doing in DOW

Swanning snorts. "Now, come on, we can all admit that there's a lot of things that don't make sense in this game. Suspend your disbelief and consider that this patch was applied to explore the dawn of another type of warcraft. I'm pretty sure the Dread Cave is Volturi's exploration to water-based quests. There are rumors about expanding to air and sea gameplay. Have you guys heard about it?"

**/ultrontron/ **yeah and I can't wait to die another thousand ways

**/q_ed/** they didn't make an official statement about it so idk

Swanning hums, double-clicks on the lower southwestern corner of the map where land brushes up into black nothingness, and replies. "The Dread Cave patch is a newer update, maybe a month or so old. But if we know anything about Volutri, it's that they don't add new patches without having a whole roll-out planned. Remember Frozen Acre? We all thought it was just a snow update, but then it led to the Heavenly Realm quests. So, I wouldn't doubt that this is just a phase one of some huge revelation….

"Anyway," Swanning continues as the screen materializes into a grey-tinged environment. There are rust stains under Swanning's boots as the ground shifts from dead, wilted grass to long swatches of metal bolted into the dirt. Swanning shifts the perspective around, giving viewers a clean shot of the cave ahead, which looks like metal that has unfurled from a massive explosion. There is still smoke billowing from the inside of the cave and the yellow-orange promise of a burning fire inside.

"So, this is the Dread Cave. Looks pretty ominous, right? The goal of this quest is to circle through the cave to rescue civilians - the catch is that the more civilians you rescue, the harder it is to keep them all alive," Swanning explains, looking directly at the camera. "For every civilian you save, you get to battle another steam-powered robot thing, which can be pretty annoying. Of course, the more civilians you save, the better you do on the quest."

**/deardirt/** see that's my problem

**/deardirt/** if I try to save too many, I get killed; if I only save one, I don't score high enough

**/deardirt/** and then there's the boss!

Swanning nods sagely. "Yeah, the boss for the Dread Cave is something else. Turns out the boss is a Dread Doctor who is kind of Frankenstein-ing his way into mixing arcane spells with steam-powered technology, only he's experimented on himself. As a doctor, he has a nasty habit of healing himself as soon as you get a hit in, so you're dealing with a really quick HP regeneration on top of this annoying attack he'll throw out, which dazes you and knocks points off your cultivated accuracy."

**/q_ed/ **this quest is fucking evil

**/pedro/ **I mean no kidding wtf lol

**/deardirt/ **I've been trying to beat it for like 10 days and I just cant

**/KLR/ **hence your call for help

**/deardirt/ **obvs I'm calling in the big guns to get through this yeah lol

Swanning strides her avatar through the ripped-metal opening. "It's all about timing. It took me a few tries too, but I found the right combination that works for both the steampunk robots and the Dread Doctor. Now, let's see…" Swanning takes a medium pace through the first openings of the bolted-metal cave, her feet occasionally knocking pieces of charred metal around. "Ideally, you'd want to save all the civilians, right? But since you get matched one-for-one, you want to be sure that you're not taking on too many civilians. It really has to do with the abilities you have and what's in your inventory. If you have a long-range weapon, for example, you can stand to take on more civilians. But if you have close-range abilities or your skills take a long time to renew, then you'll want to be more conservative. My recommendation is four, out of a total nine civilians."

Swanning demonstrates this by cherry-picking civilians to be freed from hanging metal cages. She explains that the civilians are basically useless, not programmed to do anything _besides_ get in the way, so it's best if you bypass the brawny ones that look like they could fight back and opt for the scrawnier civilians.

"The scrawnier the better, actually," Swanning adds. "They're easier to maneuver around and easier to overlook. Basically, save the kids."

**/deardirt/** welp, I see you found my first mistake

**/pedro/ **you are not alone, I would have gone for the bigger guys too

**/KLR/ **you heard it here first!

**/KLR/ **swanning says save the kids, pedro says he likes meaty men

**/pedro/ **I like big cocks and I cannot lie, so what?

**/vern/ **JFC

**/ultrontron/ **don't be a homophobe vern

**/KLR/ **yeah vern!

**/vern/ **I'm not! Can we just focus on the dungeon? Fuuuck

Swanning, meanwhile, has moved to the stage of the quest where the steampunk robots come to the fore. She does a quick demo on how to handle one with only close-range brawling, which is standard for every character class. And then she takes out the other three, either with a close-range skill, a long-range weapon, or a combination of both.

"Now here comes the hard part," Swanning says, leading the rescued civilians around a broad corner. The main part of the cave is obviously a laboratory of some kind, or it was before an expansive fire broke out; now the cave walls are burned, a fire is banked on a pile of blackened metal, and the Dread Doctor, is raging at the rest of his blown out inventions. Swanning's avatar scoots around the opposite edge of the cave. "Do you see that narrow stretch between those two fires? That's where the civilians need to go. Your job is to distract the Dread Doctor to allow the civilians time to escape, and then you can defeat the boss."

**/deardirt/** see the few times I got here, I ended up dying

Swanning hums. "Well, in this case, this is very much a trial and error quest. However, it helps to be prepared, so make sure you're coming into this quest with some kind of healing potion in your inventory. Literally take it right before you attack, so you can reap the benefits and buy yourself some time - like this -"

Swanning does exactly as she says, downing the healing potion and slinging a long-range attack at the Dread Doctor immediately after. The Dread Doctor shifts his rage onto Swanning, which allows time for the scrawny civilians to crawl through the narrow passage to escape. By that time, Swanning is already head-to-head with the Dread Doctor who is, as promised, using dazing spell that throws off Swanning's accuracy.

"Annoying," Swanning says. "But here's how you get around it."

Swanning shifts from targeted attacks to blasts that cover a large general area. It has the disadvantage of being less effective at snatching HP points and Swanning also suffers her own blood point loss - but that the same time, these non-targeted attacks more easily chip away at the Dread Doctor's offense. Once she has eaten away a quarter of the boss' health, she switches to an alternating tactic that has her dodging in and out of striking range as she delivers targeted and non-targeted blows. She runs around the Dread Doctor in circles, keeping him constantly moving.

"You can't stand still for a second, because then he can lock on to you," she explains, the sound of her fingers rapidly tapping at the keyboard filtering through the background music.

**/deardirt/** I'm so not prepared for this

**/vern/ **damn dude

**/pedro/** this looks exhausting is anyone else tired just watching this

**/KLR/ **big mood

Swanning, despite her health points being so depleted by this tactic, eventually gets the final jump on the Dread Doctor, who goes down with a shuddering _bang_ and a spark of renewed fire that crawls up to the ceiling of the cave. Swanning wastes no time in collecting the reward and then squeezing through the narrow passage as the cave rumbles and shakes.

"This one is really hard," Swanning says as she sends her avatar through the motions of ending the quest. "There's no way you can get through this one without losing a significant amount of health points. But if you play it smart and pick the right amount of civilians, you can save yourself from losing heath points prematurely. And I'm not kidding about having a health potion ready, because you're going to need it."

**/ultrontron/ **what a phenom

**/deardirt/** well I've been schooled and I am forever grateful

**/pedro/ **now let's see you do the same

**/deardirt/** LOL yeah right, I mean I'll make my attempt but it wont' be pretty like this

**/KLR/** true true Swanning's flair is her own

**/q_ed/ **I stand by what I said, this quest is fucking evil

Swanning gives the chat a cursory look, then smiles brightly at the camera. "It might take some time, but I believe you can do it, _deardirt_! It's just a matter of timing-"

In the background, there is a chime of a phone. Curiously, Swanning's cheeks turn pink as she scrambles for her phone; the blush continues to grow when she reads the message. She bites her lip, then looks up at the camera. "Ah, speaking of timing…" Swanning shrugs her shoulders. "I'll have to cut this a little short. My boyfriend found this ridiculous restaurant that uses waffles for everything and I'm _dying_ to try it -"

**/KLR/ **wait did she just

**/deardirt/** boyfriend! Boyfriend I saw it too!

**/ultrontron/ **aw damn

**/pedro/ **waffles sound good

**/ratherbealone/** maestro will be thrilled

"- so until next time, this is Swanning signing off!"

Swanning waves at the camera with clear excitement with both hands and then quickly closes down the live stream.)

* * *

**A/N: This is just 1 of 5 updates, so from now until Monday there will be an update every day. Most are short, but they're all related to the building plot and character development. **

**If _anyone_ got the Dread Doctor reference I will love you forever. **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, and stay smart. And maybe remind each other that reforming broken systems is beneficial to _all_ people in the long run and that just treating each other as human and with kindness is one of the easiest things you can ever do. **

**~Rae**


	39. stuffed with food

**[stuffed_with food]**

One day, Peter is going to grow more than one brain cell, and when he does, he will finally learn how to detect Masen's prissy Deep Thought face _before_ he gets annoyed and starts threatening unpaid overtime.

And, like. Damn. Who's idea was it to make Masen the boss? Probably Emmett, the poor dumb bastard. But who gets the brunt of Masen's perpetual resting bitch face? Peter, that's who. Can Peter help it if he's fun and Masen is…well, not? No, he can't. Frankly, Peter is shocked that Masen has managed to snag someone as wholesome and lively as Bella and not bore her out of her mind.

As it is, Peter isn't going to go around questioning shit, especially since it was Bella who smoothly asked Peter to do her a favor to pick up lunch once she noticed that Masen was edging ever-closer to crushing Peter under a mountain of extra work. Her excuse was that she was too busy helping Alistair work on the digital rendering of the Menagerie characters to go out. She even said she would _totally owe Peter for this favor_. And then she'd turned those big green eyes up at Masen to bat her lashes and Peter had beat a hasty retreat.

He doesn't think Masen even tried to stop her or protest or anything, the fucking sap. But whatever. It works in Peter's favor. Now he gets to get out of the office _and_ avoid another late night of meeting Masen's perfectionist standards. Score on both counts. Definitely worth the trade-off of playing intern again, even though the company has an official intern now.

But, like. Will Peter be moseying into the back office again when Masen is in the middle of optimizing the algorithm for one of their performance mods? Fuck no. In fact, Peter intends to avoid that office like the plague.

If Peter is assigned any more work, his hands will fall off. And if his hands fall off, then he's going to suffer from blue balls for the rest of his life - and the irony is that he will be blue balling _himself_ because it's his own damn fault he gets assigned more work. He should really do something about keeping his trap shut.

Nah. Too much hassle. Easier to just avoid the back office, honestly.

Bella, pragmatic angel that she is, had the inspired idea to open a tab at NOMAD since it seems to be the office favorite. Now Peter doesn't even need to bring money, because it's all tabulated on Venmo and paid out at the end of the week. So much easier. Bless that girl.

Luckily, today is one of the days that Hot Chef is cooking, so before Peter even reaches the front of the line he knows that the food is going to be mind-blowingly good. His mouth waters so keenly it almost aches. _Fuck_, but he's so hungry all of the sudden.

At the front of the line, Peter leans up into the food truck on his elbows with a winning grin, waggling his brows at Hot Chef. "Heeeey," Peter says.

Hot Chef greets him with a stone-faced stare and plucks the pen from behind his ear, holding it over the order pad.

"Give me everything you got," Peter says. "Is this German street food? Fuck yeah, I could die happy gagging on one of your bratwursts, you know what I mean?"

Hot Chef stares at Peter, or like, at Peter's chin or something, and then coughs before he writes down the order. Peter purses his lips, tilting his head to peruse the menu.

"Might as well throw in a bunch of that currywurst, too. I know a girl who likes it spicy," Peter adds. "And some, er, Fischebrotchen and pretzel fries, enough to feed like 10 guys."

"Order will take some time," Hot Chef says, ripping the paper off the order pad and pinning it to a corkboard above the stove, all without looking directly at Peter for some weird reason. "I'll bring it out when it's done."

"Roger, roger," Peter says with a wink.

He stakes out the nearest table, pulls out his phone, and scrolls through Twitter to get the latest dish on whoever is canceled today. Looks like the world is canceling a _shit load_ of people today - most of them make sense, too, so Peter tosses in his own hashtag because _fuck_ Chick-fil-a when he has NOMAD for the rest of his natural-born life.

While he's waiting, he also pops over to the Dawn of Warcraft NorCal forum, just to see what the latest news is. If there's a competition for solo bros then Peter wants to throw his hat in the ring to win some bragging rights from Emmett. But there isn't anything new since the last time he checked. He goes to thumb out of the internet app when a new forum post catches his eye.

* * *

**K.O. Is Still On A Search So Beware  
**Posted today by anonymous

Listen here noobs I have something to tell you. Watch your back or your sixes or whatever because there's a monster on our server and he ain't hunting any beast. K.O. is a poser poacher but before he steals your shit he demands information. Like, trade between a beatdown _and_ a loss of your kill reward, or just tell him where some rando is lurking. Idk who the hell Pettish is but my dude I think you should be afraid for your life - and your loot.

**Comments**

**Tu-Hurtle**  
RIP Pettish whoever the fuck you are but also can you just be found already? We're tired of being terrorized

**Conolli**  
I havent been playing long. Who's Pettish? Why does KO want to find him

**PlzGlz**  
KO is a fracking boxer he'll knock you out

**K.O.**  
Pettish is not the handle I'm looking for.

**CoCoPoof**  
Holy shit.

**Conolli**  
Then like who are you looking for and also can you leave me alone?

**K.O.**  
No.

**Read More Comments...**

* * *

Peter chortles at the forum. Oh, man. Yeah, he'd heard about K.O. hunting down some poor unfortunate soul the last couple of months, like the gamer version of a manhunt. He hasn't personally met K.O. online, but Peter is pretty confident his Petulant could take him on, virtual reality man to virtual reality man. Or person. K.O sounds like a dude, but they could be a chick, or maybe they don't have any preferred gender pronouns, which is _obviously_ okay too -

But the point is, Peter invites K.O to come at him and he'll show him what's up.

_Although_…Peter narrows his eye at that handle. Pettish. That's…similar, but not the same. He hasn't thought of _that_ handle for years. Any similarities are totally a coincidence. After all, Peter can't be the only master of wordplay!

He puts Pettish and K.O. out of his mind, practically salivating when Hot Chef starts bringing out one of the flat cardboard carriers used for mass orders. Peter pops up from his seat, quickly relieving Hot Chef of his burden, placing the carrier on the table, and then brightly offering his help.

Hot Chef nods, just a dip of his artfully scruffy chin, and Peter trots after him, happily filling him in on his goings-on since the last time they talked. Hot Chef is a good listener, even if he does have the facial expression range of Oscar the Grouch. Honestly, at least Hot Chef is a _nice_ grump, unlike _Masen_ who is nice to exactly one person and that person is _not _Peter.

Hot Chef listens, occasionally flicking his dark eyes in Peter's direction as they carry two other flat boxes to the table. It's only when Peter mentions the Mysterious Case of the Hacked Screensaver that Hot Chef has any overtly interested expression.

"I mean, it would be funny if it was a prank, or like, if the prank made any sense. Like, if it were me, I'd be changing wallpapers to PornHub stills or embarrassing childhood photos or a bad report card from fourth grade that has been haunting someone forever," Peter babbles. He scrunches his face up, shakes his head. "But noooo, what do I get instead? Tibetan temples. Monasteries. Praying monks, and not even cool ones like Miroku!"

Hot Chef places his cardboard carrier down slowly, almost stiffly, and lifts his gaze to stare at Peter in silence. Silence, obviously, is an invitation to continue, which is what Peter does.

"And, like, what's wrong with Margot Robbie? She's a goddess! Did you know she did all of Harley Quinn's stunts by herself in heels? A total legend! Who would have a problem with her?" Peter demands. He huffs, gesturing wildly. "Can you _believe_ some hacker troll wants me to be a monk? Because that's the _only_ explanation! But it's like, no, I don't want to be a monk, thanks, and I don't think real-life pictures of K'un-Lun are going to change that! I'm not Iron fist - and I'm _still_ pissed they whitewashed Danny Rand!"

Hot Chef stands to his full height and stares Peter straight in the eye. "Maybe the hacker wants to free you from distractions so you can pay attention to what's in front of you."

Peter shivers. Hot Chef is, like, _weirdly_ intense right now and it makes Peter feel strange, like his skin is on too tight.

Hot Chef has really pretty eyes, doesn't he? Expressive and fathomless and stuff. Huh.

But then what Hot Chef said finally filters in and Peter can't help but laugh. "Oh, yeah right! I pay plenty of attention!" Peter declares brightly. "Don't think I didn't notice you added one of those mouthwatering cookies. You're ruining me for everyone else, buddy!"

Hot Chef sighs. "New recipe. Brownie stuffed."

Peter whistles. "Man, I love being stuffed too! These are my favorite cookies!"

Hot Chef clears his throat, "On the house."

Peter's mouth drops open. He sidles closer to Hot Chef, his nose level with Hot Chef's chin - and _wow_ is this guy tall or what? Peter grins, pokes Hot Chef right in the middle of his pleasantly firm chest.

"I know you're a nice guy despite your angry eyebrows," Peter says cheerfully. "You can fool the world, but you can't fool me. Nothing gets past this guy right here!"

Dark eyes land on him with a deadpan stare. Hot Chef sighs again.

"Anyway!" Peter says with a winsome grin, stepping back to shoot finger-guns at Hot Chef. "I've got to get back to the office. See you later, man!"

Hot Chef grunts his own goodbye, lumbering back to the food truck and patiently waiting customers with one final glance over his shoulder. Peter winks at him and Hot Chef turns away, his tanned neck getting red, probably from all the sun.

Peter has pep in his step as he goes back to the office. Despite the work surely waiting for him at his desk, Peter can't find a single fuck to care because his mood is so good. Even Masen coming out with another deadline wouldn't get him down now!

But, like. Peter _hopes_ there _won't_ be a new deadline, just in case. Fingers crossed and knocking on wood and all of that.

* * *

**A/N: Oh, Peter...There were a few clues in this chapter! Paying attention to the exact wording is important and so is Peter paying attention to _Pettish_. It all makes sense eventually. This is update 2 of 5!**

**There were a few references in this chapter: Miroku is from the manga/anime Inuyasha, where Miroku is a monk who is cursed with a wind tunnel in his hand and the bit about Margo Robbie doing all of her own stunts in heels is 100% true, which is _so_ impressive considering the acrobatics Harley Quinn pulls off. The whitewashing of Danny Rand in the Netflix/Marvel iteration of Iron Fist is problematic because Danny was supposed to be Asian like he is in the comics; speaking of Iron Fist, K'un-Lun is a mythical hidden temple of ass-kicking monks in both the comic and the TV series. Interesting K'un-Lun is also part of some legitimate Chinese mythology, as it is sometimes regarded as the place where the God of War would live and train his disciples. **

**Anyway! As always, be brutally honest. I can take it! Stay safe, stay smart, and stay vigilant **against people who are crying about Aunt Jemima, because these are people who will insist that the entire motif of Aunt Jemima isn't racist (it is, see: original minstrel play that created the Aunt Jemima image, the "Lawsee" original advertising, and the fact that, when the brand was first on the shelf, "Aunt" or "Uncle" was a way to refer to favored slaves, kind of a softening of the I-Own-You-But-Still-Think-Of-You-As-Family-But-I-Also-Wont-Give-You-Your-Freedom issue surrounding the whole ideal that well-treated slaves were, in fact, pleased as punch to be slaves, which obviously they weren't because they didn't have _freedom_). These people who are so upset about Quaker pulling this blatantly racist item off the shelves will also try to tell you that Nancy Green, the "first" Aunt Jemima whose likeness was used and who was a paid actress to make pancakes at conventions, was the first black female millionaire (she wasn't, and neither were any of the other Aunt Jemima actresses who came after her) and they will also try to ignore the fact that Quaker (and other companies) have _clearly_ known about the racist connotations of these brands and are only _just now_ doing something about it. And yeah, it is a superficial change, but it's a superficial change that helps remove the subliminal messaging that has been baked into our society.

**~Rae**


	40. how to mix prints and grow up

[Tumblr]

_**Anonymous **asked:_

_Why haven't you released any new fashion tutorials?  
You disappeared when I needed you the most!  
I could really use some guidance on how to mix prints, because I am ~hopelessly~ confused uWu_

**forthright_foresight **

I'm so sorry! I didn't realize my ask box was so full! I promise, once my RL clears up a little, I'll be back to posting the latest fashion tutorials!

But to answer your question real quick - there are a few rules for mixing print.

One. Find a focal color that ties between the prints. Ideally, the focal color Is one of the major stand outs on both of your prints and is in similar shades. So like a navy backdrop on a floral skirt and a navy striped or checkered blouse would work.

Two. Mix the sizes of the prints. If one of your prints is large, then your other print needs to be smaller or more subtle. Two big prints looks too busy, while two subtle prints looks boring.

Three. Break the prints. You can tone down a bold print by using a plain or single-color cardigan, sweater, or jacket. You can also use a belt at the waist to break the prints apart. Give some love to the neutrals in your closet.

Four. Use accessories. A girl's best friends are a good pair of shoes and a reliable purse, so when you're trying to pair with mixed prints, take cues from the colors in your prints to choose your accessories. If you want to lift your look, choose accessories that are contrasting to your focal color or accessories that are in one of the tertiary colors in your prints.

Mixing prints is all about balance and anyone can do it! Start out small and get bolder as you get more comfortable. Fashion, like life, is all about growing.

My life lately is all about growth. Personal growth, the hardest kind of growth. I haven't been myself and I've had to learn some hard lessons. Personal life lessons are harder than fashion lessons.

But like me, I hope you'll stick with it and feel brave enough to grow some more soon!

#reallifelessons #fashionlessons #fashionislife #everfeelsoashamedofyourself #thatreachingoutfeelsimpossible #trytobebrave #growingpains #mixedprints #whatlikeitshard

* * *

**A/N: That's right, Alice runs a fashion advice blog on tumblr! The advice about mixing prints is 100% accurate if you were wondering - it's actually one of the bigger 2020 trends. This is update 3 of 5.**

** For those wondering what's going on with Alice, pay attention to the tags. Also, as a point of note, I don't believe that people have fights and miraculously make up without some personal growth happening - especially in this situation, where the catalyst wad a deep-seated feeling of inferiority. Those disappointed in Alice not stepping up should remember that a sincere apology that comes from self-reflection will be better and healthier for the relationship overall.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay inside, stay safe, and stay smart.**

**~Rae**


	41. chapter 19

**[chapter_19]**

Masen is always amazed at how much she eats.

It doesn't seem possible that she can put away twice as much as him and still be looking to snack on something an hour later, but that's how it is. Bella's metabolism must be a medical marvel. Her healthy appetite is thankfully matched by a healthy body, which is all he really cares about. He'd first thought she was slender, a slyphlike frame that could blow away when he wasn't looking, but much to his delight, she has luscious, soft curves that fit against him snugly. He's glad to be proven wrong, even gladder that Bella is not shy about eating around him anymore.

He finds a measure of satisfaction, of joy and pride, in seeing her eat so heartily. He doesn't say as much, of course, but he does make a point to remember her favorite foods and have snacks on-hand, both at home and the office. Apparently, he isn't the only one to have cultivated this habit specifically for the care of Bella, something he had been both pleased and perturbed to learn.

"I'm like a Hobbit," she'd joked the other day. "I need second breakfast and elvensies, so I just can't function. Leah always makes fun of me, but Alice -"

Masen had waited patiently for her to continue, chewing on a cheeseburger smashed between two waffles that was shockingly tasty. And she had, after a moment, drawing a breath and explaining that Alice always kept snacks in her bag for Bella, which is apparently one of a hundred other little habits Alice had that Bella missed.

He knows the resolution is halted, stuttered and smoking like an overworked engine. He knows Bella reaches out and that Alice does not reach back. He resents how much these facts hurt Bella, but he's also conversely gratified to learn the depth and scope of her feelings. For all that Bella might be more open than he is, she does have a habit of plastering on a pleasing smile instead of saying what she truly feels.

He likes to think she tells _him_ what's really on her mind, but he can't always be sure. Bella would rather smile than cry, and given half a chance, that's exactly what she'll do, backed with mild manners and a general kindness to the world that is not, Masen knows, always kind back.

Masen wants to protect her from this conflict. Of course he does. But he can't and he shouldn't. Bella is strong enough to fight her own battles and she has her own methods, something he learned after being chastised about the way he handled Hive. He won't interfere, but he will support in any way she needs.

And right now, that means spending every spare moment he has trying to fill the gap that has been left by her friend. Food, one of Bella's favorite things and her primary coping mechanism, is just one way he replaces this vacuum. Which is why he's once again over at Esme's apartment for a mid-week homestay date, bringing with him two bags full of all kinds of wings. He basks in the way Bella's eyes light up as they unload the food onto the coffee table, taking in the dry wings, hot wings, honey wings, BBQ wings, ginger wings, garlic wings, and any other wing that was on the menu.

"This is too much food," Bella says with wonder.

"Maybe," he says. But he knows it's probably _just_ enough. Even with seasoned fries and onion rings, two sample platters are the perfect amount to feed Bella now and give her leftovers whenever the mood strikes.

"We need drinks! Water okay?" she asks, bouncing up from the table.

Masen watches the sway of her hips until she rounds the corner. "Extra glasses," he says, shrugging off his denim jacket and folding it over the arm of the couch before settling in what is now his customary seat at the coffee table.

"Way ahead of you," Bella proclaims, coming back with a quart-sized Brita filter and two glasses. She nestles the glasses between the platters, pouring them each a generous amount of water, and then fetches the remote, which she hands to him before she sits down. "Your turn to pick."

"The Umbrella Academy," he says promptly. "Haven't seen the second season yet."

Bella gives him a sunny smile. "Me either. What a coincidence."

It isn't that much of a coincidence, although he isn't going to correct her on the assumption. He really _hasn't_ seen the second season and he's been meaning to. But the only reason he picked The Umbrella Academy today is because he overheard a conversation between the Graphics department about the newest season, most importantly about how Bella hadn't had the time to binge. She playfully complained about avoiding spoilers online.

It's such a small problem that Masen can easily remedy - so why wouldn't he snag the first opportunity to do exactly that?

Bella becomes entranced with the show very quickly, her eyes never straying from the television screen as she reaches for wing after wing. She actually stops eating, one hot wing mid-way to her mouth, when the scene shifts into something building toward a climax - and when it hits, in a jump-scare of action that blazes across the TV as the characters are chased by assassins, the wing goes flying from her hand and lands right on his shirt. Masen flinches at the sudden contact and subsequently drops a piping-hot onion ring right on his collar. He hisses as the heat seeps into his skin, momentarily uncomfortable as both the wing and the onion ring fall onto the floor.

"Oh, no!" Bella cries immediately, abandoning her plate as she twists around, rolling onto her knees and bracing her hands against his chest, ducking down to peer at the grease-stained at the collar of his shirt. "Masen, I'm so sorry! Are you burned? Does it hurt? Here, let me see -"

Bella gasps, finally noticing that her hands are smeared with sauce and that his shirt now bears the imprints of her fingers all across the top of his chest. She raises her eyes to his, sheepish, a blush tinging the top of her cheekbones.

"You're not burned, are you?"

Masen shakes his head, lips twitching at the meek embarrassment in her tone.

"Your shirt, though…"

Masen straightens up, prompting Bella to lean away. He wipes his hands off, then reaches behind his neck to pull his shirt off, a feeling of smug pride running through his veins when she drops her eyes to follow the lines of his torso. With another gasp and perhaps the brightest blush he has seen on her yet, Bella averts her eyes, even going so far as to turn her body away slightly.

She reaches her hand back, not looking, and says, "Give me your shirt. I'll, um, go find another for you. And soak this one."

Masen wordlessly passes his shirt over, but he doesn't miss the opportunity to graze the length of her palm with his fingers as he pulls away. He's gratified to see the tiny shiver she gives in response.

As soon as she has the shirt, Bella pops up from the floor and flees the living room. Masen can't help but quietly laugh at her hasty retreat, even as he rewinds and pauses Netflix, cleans the grease off his collarbone, and neatens up the coffee table. He hadn't intended on losing his shirt in front of her so quickly, but the fact that he did and her bashful reaction makes him endlessly fond. He's even more endeared by her first instinct, which was to make sure that he wasn't burned, regardless of how implausible that might have been from an onion ring, of all things.

Masen is still smiling, a smile that hinges on a smirk more than anything, when Bella comes back. She takes one look at him, rightly assesses his entertained attitude, and tosses a wad of grey fabric at him. He unfolds the shirt to see the cardinal red stamp of the Stanford logo, but the size is far too large for Bella and it's been washed enough times to be soft and faded.

"Carlisle."

"He's here twice as much as you are," Bella says matter-of-factly, still not quite looking at him, or at least not looking at him directly. "He slept over last night."

Did he, now?

Masen obediently puts on the shirt, much to Bella's obvious relief, and waits for her to settle down next to him, their knees pressing together as a single innocent point of incredibly potent contact, before he starts the episode again.

His mind can't help but wonder, though, fixated on this idea that his brother is over _more_ than Masen, when Masen knows full well he spends two or three evenings with Bella a week. Esme must be in town more than she anticipated, although why Carlisle and Esme don't stay at _his_ place is beyond Masen.

Eyes narrowed in thought, he muses what he should do about this, if anything. Bella doesn't seem bothered by it, and it's not as if Masen doesn't want two of the most important people in his life getting along.

And yet, he feels unsettled somehow. Belatedly, he realizes it's because he's - covetous would be the closest word - of Bella's time. He wants to be near her constantly, like an itch under his skin that is soothed only by her presence. He can manage and prioritize, but lately it feels like the tension wired into his spine can only go lax when she is near.

His heart lurches as another realization dawns.

Masen side-eyes his Swansong, who is once again riveted and reacting to the show with animated expressions, and his only thought is, _Undoubtedly, I am._

* * *

Masen  
How often are you there?

Carlisle  
Where is there?  
I am many places regularly

Masen  
You know

Carlisle  
At the hospital?

Masen  
No

Carlisle  
At the headquarter offices?

Masen  
No

Carlisle  
At home?

Masen  
You never were good at guessing games

Carlisle  
You wound me, little brother  
I'm afraid I have no idea what you're  
talking about

Masen  
Is that so?  
Then why am I wearing your shirt?  
Bella tells me that you have a drawer

Carlisle  
I see what this is about  
You're jealous I have a drawer  
and you don't

Masen  
I am not jealous

Carlisle  
Not of my having a drawer at least

Masen  
Not jealous

Carlisle  
Okay

Masen  
Stop going over so much

Carlisle  
I KNEW it!You are jealous  
Wow  
I never thought I would see the day

Masen  
Look  
You have your own apartment

Carlisle  
Esme's place is closer to the hospital  
And I like being there  
It's clean, fully stocked, and twice as  
quiet as my place  
Plus she has such a sweet roommate  
Her roommates boyfriend, on the other hand…

Masen  
...

Carlisle  
You're not afraid I'm going to steal  
your girl are you?

Masen  
Of course not  
Bella has better taste than that

Carlisle  
Ouch!  
It's a good thing I'm a doctor  
I know how to treat burns

Masen  
Why do I bother

Carlisle  
Don't be like that, brother mine!  
Masen!  
Come on!  
Let's talk!

Masen  
(_Read at 8:56pm_)

* * *

Masen has taken the time to carefully reflect and he is confident in his conclusion: objectively, Bella is talented and beautiful, with an affable, pleasant personality and a humble manner that allows her to get along with most people. It comes as no shock to him to learn that she has quickly become something of a mascot for the company. He has observed, between conference calls and long hours hunched over his keyboard streamlining code, that she has managed to make herself indispensable to nearly everyone at Midnight Sun. From IT work and minor repairs, to being Alistair's literal right hand to pragmatic ideas that make the day-to-day work run more efficiently, Bella Swan is always puttering around the office floor. And while some of the employees were leery of a girl breaking up the bro-tastic nerd alliance that happened between break times, then she has already won them over with her breadth of knowledge and enthusiasm.

Simply put, Bella _fits_.

All that said, Masen is not remotely surprised when, on one round through the office early in the day, he happens across Alistair and Liam arguing over Bella. Literally. They are arguing over her head, and although neither are particularly tall, Bella looks small standing between them, her eyes darting back and forth as she keeps up with their rapid-fire bickering. In her hands is a tablet, one of the ones that each department has for the sake of convenience. Occasionally, either Alistair or Liam will point at the tablet, prompting Bella's brows to rise a fraction higher.

"You can't have her! I need her -"

"No, you're hogging her-"

"-until this bloody thing comes off! And I am not hogging her!"

"You are! You are and I've had enough! I need help-"

"She helps you enough!"

"-with the rendering of the-"

"Oh, I see her doing plenty, you twitchy git!"

"-and there's no way I can get it completed without-"

"And you think I can get anything done by myself?"

"Don't be selfish, Alistair!"

"I'm not being selfish! You're being selfish! Don't you think it's important for the -"

"Ha! Are you saying the animation isn't as importa-"

"That's not what I said!"

"Sounded like it!"

"It bloody well did not!"

"It did so, you silver spoon asshole-"

Masen comes to a stop, clears his throat with a pointed look. His gaze drifts around patiently, lingering on Bella when she greets him with a gentle smile tinged with frazzled stress. "Explain," he orders shortly, pinning Alistair and Liam with a flinty stare.

While Liam shrinks back, still not quite accustomed to Masen's mannerisms, Alistair meets him head-on. "This absolute walnut is insisting on taking Bella on as a permanent assistant to help him create the animated rendering, which I object to because he has _Charles_-"

"Charles has his own shit to do," Liam mutters.

"-and I clearly need Bella to help me finish the static base graphics because my arm is not operational. And because Bella's talents are obviously needed more in my area."

Masen makes a note of inquiry.

Alistair reaches for the tablet, taking it from Bella and giving it to Masen. With a brisk manner, Alistair unlocks the tablet and shows Masen the screen, which is a design of a cluster of smaller stone figures than the rest of the Menagerie characters. To Masen's eye, this illustration has a different flair than Alistair's usual style and he easily deduces that this must have been created by Bella independent of any instruction.

It's very good. _Very_ good. They're good enough that Masen suggests they be used somewhere in the game, perhaps in the inventory window. When he says as much, he is internally delighted to see Bella duck her head to try to hide the blush blooming on her cheeks. However, on the outside, it seems like he has a problem to solve. The solution, for him, is simple.

"Are the principle designs finished?" he asks.

Alistair nods. "All the mains are complete. Charles is following behind to create the background. We start working on the effects with Programming in two weeks."

"And are the motion paths on schedule?"

"Barely," Liam grudgingly admits.

Masen passes the tablet back to Bella. "Are you comfortable switching between two tasks?" At Bella's nod, Masen finishes settling the dispute. "Bella will alternate exclusive projects each day. Today, Alistair needs help finishing the core designs. Tomorrow will be Liam's turn. Fair enough?"

There are nods all around. As much as Masen would like to loiter to watch Bella work - she is so diligent when she does, her head bowed, brow furrowed, lip snug between her teeth as she concentrates - Masen knows that he has other business to attend to.

Mainly he is haggling with new investors, who are so impressed with Pagan Immortals and who are excited to learn that production for Menagerie is underway. Masen has been gratified to attract the attention of investors who have been part of the gaming industry for decades and who have connections he plans to exploit - in particular, he has been hinting about the rumors surrounding Volturi at the moment and today he will find that his efforts have paid off. When an investor mentions that Volturi is head-hunting for fresh developers for the follow up to Dawn of Warcraft, Masen knows that he's on the right track. The investor promises to put in a good word for Midnight Sun at Volturi, which is the kind of personal connection that can mean the difference between being looked over or not.

A few days later, he receives a message in his inbox that leaves the taste of victory lingering in his mouth.

Midnight Sun has been selected for an in-person interview with the Creative Director of Volturi's game design department, along with one other candidate. Midnight Sun is to send representatives prepared with a pitch in San Francisco at the end of the week.

At this news, Masen calls a halt to all in-progress work and rounds the employees into the conference room. It's still morning, so many of them are still bleary-eyed, including Bella, who while still neatly perched in a chair is also on the cusp of falling asleep sitting up. Seeing this, Masen keeps his explanation short - and of course, when he announces that Volturi is planning to develop the Dawn of Warcraft sequel with outside game developers, he sees the room collectively perk up.

"We are one of two," Masen says seriously. "If we want this contract, then we need to be sure that the idea we pitch is unique and backed by innovative advances in gameplay. So, we're here to brainstorm. All ideas are welcome. Does anyone have any suggestions?"

A dozen hands pop into the air and Masen smiles with satisfaction.

* * *

**Turing Is Our Hero**

Squidward  
I'm excited

Em Likes Pi  
Have you told that to your face?  
Because I don't think your face knows

Squidward  
(eye roll emoji)

Peter Panda  
Can we not roast Al for like 3 secs today  
Let's just be jazzed that we're in the top 2  
I didn't even know there was a list and we're  
one of two right at the top

Em Likes Pi  
Duuuuuuuude  
Who do you think we're up against?

Squidward  
Industry giant?

Em Likes Pi  
Idk  
If they're looking at us then maybe  
they're looking at other start ups too

Squidward  
Possible  
Masen didn't seem to know

Mad Hatter  
I don't

Peter Panda  
Oh hohohohoho  
Look who decided to join us

Mad Hatter  
Bella went home

Em Likes Pi  
So damn whipped  
Like whip cream whipped

Mad Hatter  
Did you not want to go to SanFran?

Em Likes Pi  
What

Mad Hatter  
Keep it up  
Go ahead

Peter Panda  
Alright!  
Well!  
Now that Masen is through with his  
threats which have 100% follow-through  
Let's talk about the other thing

Squidward  
The Volturi rumors about this game?  
Apparently they've been searching for months

Em Likes Pi  
Man  
Months of searching and they decided on us  
So fucking cool

Peter Panda  
Yeah yeah  
It's cool and everything  
But I'm talking about the other other thing

Em Likes Pi  
Oh right

Peter Panda  
Oh rite! Yes!  
This has been bothering me!  
Especially after watching Al and Liam  
fight over Bella like a new toy the other day  
Something has to give

Squidward  
I did not

Em Likes Pi  
Okay  
And we didn't land on the moon

Squidward  
Am I supposed to believe you Americans  
actually accomplished that?

Em Likes Pi  
Wtf of course we did  
Armstrong's ass was on that moon

Squidward  
Or on a very convincing sound stage

Em Likes Pi  
You know I'm getting real sick of these  
fucking conspiracy theories Al

Squidward  
It's not like I said the earth is flat you fuckwit  
I just have some skepticism

Peter Panda  
You both suck  
If we don't hurry we're going to lose Masen's  
attention and then where will we be

Mad Hatter  
I'm here  
(Link Attachment to article debunking moon landing myth)

Squidward  
Oh fuck off  
Go snog your girlfriend

Mad Hatter  
She went home

Squidward  
(whip emoji)

Peter Panda  
aNYwAyayyyy  
Can we just get to the point  
Okay great  
Look  
It's nice that Bella swans around all day  
But I'm concerned  
She needs a desk

Em Likes Pi  
For once I agree with Pete  
Lady needs a desk for all her lady things

Squidward  
What kind of lady things do you think  
she would put at a desk?

Em Likes Pi  
Idk  
Cute pens and sticky notes?  
Her agenda to topple the patriarchy?

Peter Panda  
Whatever she puts on it she needs one  
It can't be comfortable having no one place  
to be or whatever  
She's just scrunched in beside whoever she's  
helping atm

Mad Hatter  
I see  
A desk can be arranged

Em Likes Pi  
Hold up there buddy  
The desk needs to be in a centralized  
location

Peter Panda  
As in  
Not in your office

Squidward  
I second the motion  
She needs to remain accessible

Mad Hatter  
I will find a desk

Peter Panda  
And put it in a central location?  
Like maybe between graphics and the kitchen

Em Likes Pi  
Or engineering  
I could also use a hand occasionally  
you intern hogs

Peter Panda  
Fucking excuse me  
I haven't used the intern once

Squidward  
Well

Em Likes Pi  
The printer would beg to differ

Peter Panda  
Does that count?  
Okay  
I haven't used the intern for my ACTUAL work  
Right Mase?  
Masen  
Mad Hatter?

Mad Hatter  
(Read at 6:11pm)

Peter Panda  
Unfuckingbelivable

Em Likes Pi  
Oh leave him alone  
He's either fapping or buying a desk

Squidward  
Can you not use the word fapping

Em Likes Pi  
What should I use then?

Squidward  
How about you just don't

Peter Panda  
That desk better be a work of art  
That's all I'm saying

* * *

Masen wakes up an hour earlier on Friday morning. He takes care to double-shave, styles his hair to be pushed up off his shoulders, and steams a steel-grey dress shirt with charcoal color-blocking until the collar lays against his neck crisp and sharp. After strapping on a watch given to him by Thomas Cullen on his 18th birthday, a watch previously worn by his biological father, and straightening the cuff of his straight-legged dark wash jeans over suede sneakers, he carefully checks over the presentation Midnight Sun has been working on around the clock. Everything was dropped, all projects postponed until their presentation was completed. He doesn't think any of them have slept more than ten hours since Tuesday, but it's worth it.

Saved onto his hard drive, his external drive, and his cloud drive is the presentation Midnight Sun will give to Volturi in the hopes of securing that exclusive, career-making project. Masen had been adamant than any ideas they planned to pitch also be backed up by short demos to illustrate that their ideas, while lofty, are also possible. Even though it had been more work - a significantly larger amount of work, actually - everyone had stepped up to the plate once he explained his reasoning.

It is absolutely imperative that Midnight Sun is involved in this project. If done correctly, not only will this project launch Midnight Sun into the stratosphere, it will also create the kind of reputation that makes brands coveted and vied for by the big-time investors that run in the industry giant circles.

This pitch has to be flawless and extraordinary and full of innovative ideas. He's confident that this pitch is impressive, creative, and ambitious - he's certain these are the ideas that Volturi is looking for. And it is, in no small part, thanks to Alistair.

Or rather, Bella by way of Alistair.

During the brainstorming session, Alistair had mentioned that Swanning - Bella - had said something interesting during her last Twitch stream. She'd pointed out that the Dread Cave quest seemed to be an exploration at the edge of the map, where sea and air gameplay could be made possible. Alistair had insisted, much to Bella's red-cheeked embarrassment, that Swanning was right, that rumors about Volturi trying to expand the DOW map had been going around for years and that, right now, Midnight Sun was in the unique position of being able to do that. Because, as Alistair had reminded everyone, didn't Pagan Immortals have levels on the sea and in the air? Didn't Midnight Sun already have algorithms set in place that could be expanded and exaggerated and streamlined?

Alistair was right, and so was Bella.

Midnight Sun has created a pitch that realizes all of Volturi's dreams, with finesse and sophistication and advanced elements in the intelligence of the non-player characters, the life simulation options, and complicated, multi-tier quests. The cinch, he thinks, is the level of innovation that will be embedded in the software programming and engineering. Masen and Midnight Sun have plans to turn the industry on its head with faster technology that takes up less bandwidth without sacrificing any elements of gameplay.

All they need is the green light from Volturi.

Shouldering his computer bag, Masen goes downstairs and knocks on the three apartments below his. Peter immediately pops out of his room, limbs quivering with nervous energy, and while Emmett takes a few more minutes, he is also ready, a pinch at his lips belying his nerves. Alistair requires a secondary knock and Peter playfully threatening to drag Alistair out of bed, but he emerges within minutes as well, still patting down his hair and grumbling at Peter.

On the office floor, a few early-risers have already stumbled in, including Charles, who greets the four of them with a salute. "General. Captains."

Beside him, Liam rolls his eyes.

"What are we doing today?" Charles asks, rubbing his hands together.

"Boss-man?" Peter prompts.

"Return to normal projects. Deadlines are extended by three days," Masen says tonelessly. Bella, he notes, isn't in yet. Disappointing, because he would have liked to see her, but also not unexpected given the early hour. "We'll be back by three."

Ideally, they will be back with good news. He doesn't expect anything less.

"Good luck on the thing, I guess," Liam says, slinking to his seat without another word.

"See you later, General!" Charles calls behind them. "And Captains!"

"Captain Peter," Peter muses as they leave the office and unlock the new company car, which is neither silver nor a Volvo. "Has a nice ring to it, like, Captain Peter calls shotgun."

Emmett snorts. "What, are you twelve? Shotgun?"

Alistair ignores them both. "I'm sleeping in the backseat," he says, climbing in and arranging himself and his cast to do exactly that. He seems to drop off immediately, even though the jostling as Emmett and Peter bicker and buckle up.

Masen, in the driver seat, starts the car and spends the entire drive up to San Francisco outlining the points of their presentation. He wouldn't call it rehearsal, so much as making sure that every portion of their pitch is spot-on. Following the guidance of the GPS on his phone, they arrive at the Volturi offices an hour before the official start time of their meeting. Good. Being early is a sign of respect. It also gives them time to straighten themselves out before the drive and, in Peter's case, find the restroom.

The Volturi office building is grand, a reconstructed piece of architecture from the last century that, to the average passerby, seems like just a simple, but beautiful, old building. Inside is a feast of cutting-edge technology and clean, future-thinking lines, every portion of the offices constructed to be efficient and to use space creatively. Much of the interior is done in black walnut wood, with white and burgundy accents that match the proud Volturi logo, which finds a home on pens, frosted windows, elevator buttons, and the decorative stitching on the furniture in the lobby. After registering and passing security clearance, their group is directed to sit in a private lobby on one of the upper floors that holds two large conference rooms, which have windows secured by private black-out curtains.

With low murmurs and serious demeanors, Masen discusses the strategy he plans to employ to secure negotiations. He is met with blank stares that remind him that his friends, unlike himself, did not grow up at the knee of a ruthless businessman. Masen knows he needs to take the reigns on this one because impressing Volturi is the top priority. He's certain that they each know their portion of the presentation well, but he also knows that the majority of the pressure falls on his shoulders.

This pressure is magnified when the first company tapped for development emerge from the conference room and Masen is greeted with the sight of Eleazar Denali shaking hands with Marcus Volturi, Volturi's head-most Creative Director. Denali turns and delivers his most shark-like smile, which Masen returns with a perfectly polite smile of his own. He rises and greets Denali placidly, proving under the eyes of Marcus Volturi that, although much younger, Masen also possesses business manners.

"Masen Cullen, my boy! What a pleasant surprise to see you here!" Denali says, squeezing Masen's hand.

Masen withholds rolling his eyes at the tiresome display of male superiority and meets Denali's pressure with his own. "Likewise," he returns, dropping his hand.

Denali's gaze sharpens. He speaks with a patronizing tone. "Your enterprising team of young men are the promise of this industry's future. You must be impressive and make an impression to get this far. How remarkable that Volturi has extended this opportunity to you!"

Masen's pleasant smile doesn't crack. He does, however, note the increased interest coming from Marcus Volturi, who watches this scene from the door of the conference room. "As you said, we are enterprising," Masen replies. "We know a good deal when we see one."

Denali fairly _twitches_ at the dig, because he knows just as well as Masen that the deal Denali Corps tried to give Midnight Sun wasn't a good or fair at all. It was practically highway robbery. Masen had been wily enough to see though it, and through Denali, who is flaring his nostrils in irritation even as his smile remains fixed.

"Uh, Boss?" Peter tries from his elbow. "Our appointment is about to start, I think."

"Mm. Until next time, Mr. Denali."

"Mr. Cullen," Denali returns frostily.

Paying no more mind to insignificant people, Masen leads his team through greetings with Marcus Volturi, who had made a name for himself as the helm as Volturi's most exciting and artistically pleasing games in the last decade, Dawn of Warcraft included. Marcus is a tall, sallow-looking man, quiet and mild in manners, with a long face and patient eyes.

"Mr. Cullen of Midnight Sun," Marcus greets with genuine respect, waving them into the conference room and signaling for an assistant to close the door as they settle around an oval-shaped, black-lacquered table. "I've heard many good things about your startup. Many good things. Midnight Sun is making a name for itself as a company to watch out for. I can't tell you how interested Volturi is with working with such an enthusiastic team."

"We've long been admirers of Volturi's unique games, particularly the golden standard you established for leading graphics and design," Masen says, gesturing to the others. "I and my teammates, Emmett, Alistair, and Peter, have been huge fans of Dawn of Warcraft since it first launched. To say we are thrilled to be here is an understatement."

Marcus looks interested. "You all have played the game?"

"We still play the game," Emmett corrects lightly. "Uh, Emmett McCarty. Sir."

"No need for formalities," Marcus says, waving him away. He is smiling now. "You're the first group we've talked to that claim to have played the game. I expect that your presentation will be…nuanced because of this."

"It is," Masen confirms. He passes Peter his laptop bag and Peter swiftly unpacks it, setting the computer between himself and Alistair so they can pull up the presentation. An assistant helpfully shows them the plug that connects to the projector screen. "Most of the employees in my company are current players on the NorCal server, many of them on the ranking lists. We understand the game and we believe we understand the vision Volturi is looking to capture with the sequel."

Marcus steeples his fingers. "Tell me more," he says.

Masen stands, and so do Emmett and Peter. Alistair remains seated, as it is his job to cycle through the presentation and pull up the demos.

"Let us show you instead," Masen tells Marcus, and then with all the confidence he has cultivated over a lifetime, he smoothly and steadily explains the Midnight Sun vision for the Dawn of Warcraft sequel.

Dusk of Warcraft is what they plan to call it, a grand creation that will triple the size of the current game map and introduce new avenues of gameplay that are have not yet been fully fleshed out in any other MMORPG.

"We plan to combine multiple genres to appeal to the widest customer base possible," Masen says.

"Action, adventure, life simulation, and strategy genres are our top four genres," Peter lists out with thinly-muted excitement. "But we also plan to diversify quests and uses these genres to make quests more exciting. Mystery quests, which would require skills built from action adventures, relationships built with NPCs from life situation, and choose-your-own strategy to make each quest unique for each player."

"We also plan to expand the environment to the sea and the air, as well as create life-like weather and day-night patterns," Emmett adds.

Marcus raises his eyebrows. "Those features eat away at the CPU. Computers won't be able to keep up."

"We believe we can create an optimization algorithm for the graphics chip that will cut the data and memory usage by as much as half of what is currently used in DOW," Masen says smoothly.

"That's quite a promise," Marcus comments.

Masen offers a genial smile. "We can deliver," he says with absolute conviction.

"Perhaps," Marcus says. "What of the graphic design? Do you have plans for that, as well?"

"Greater customization of the character, from the facial configuration to the color and texture of clothing, is also part of our plans," Alistair speaks up, clicking over to another portion of the presentation. "Part of the reason simulation games are popular is because they give players the ability to customize every aspect of the character. In Dusk of Warcraft, we plan to expand the current avatar controls, create new aspects for races and classes, and create the ability to have half-races, which will open new opportunities for customized moral-alignment quests."

Marcus listens to the rest of the presentation, occasionally peppering questions throughout that the team is happy to answer. Masen is unable to discern any judgment from Marcus' expression. Aside from being intrigued by the plans Midnight Sun has outlined, he does not seem to have any hard-set emotions by the time they reach the end. Instead, he says, "You've given me a lot to think about. My office will be in contact with you with an answer no later than Monday."

And with that, it's over. Masen and the others trail out of the Volturi offices, exhausted and exhilarated by turns. They stop by the nearest fast-food chain for lunch and then drive home. The entire time, Alistair and Emmett waffle between feeling that they had impressed Marcus Volturi and feeling that their ambitions had been too lofty; Peter, on the other hand, is optimistic, especially when he points out that their actual competition is Denali Corps and, by his words, _there's no way those rat-faced bastards came up with anything half as cool_.

Masen thinks that Peter is probably right. Creativity is not a strong suit of Denali. However, creativity is not necessarily good in business, either. Volturi might feel that they are safer with Denali than taking a gamble with Midnight Sun because while Midnight Sun certainly has ideas that will flood gamers with reasons to buy DOW2, there is also the possibility that Midnight Sun might not be able to live up to the goals they set. This is, of course, the exact reason why Masen had insisted on five-second demos of each of their more ambitious ideas, simply to prove that their pitch _can_ be completed.

It's just that, as of right now, he isn't sure that they've done enough. He imagines, as always, what Grandfather Cullen might do in a situation such as this one, and he knows that Grandfather Cullen would opt for the safer bet, the one that guarantees at least some profit.

Masen hopes, perhaps foolishly, that the heads of Volturi will think differently. Surely they will realize that if they want to secure a new base and sway current Dawn of Warcraft players to the sequel game, that there will have to be something _new_ to keep attention? This is what Masen is banking on - the absolute certainty that serious gamers want serious challenges and an immersive, real-life experience during gameplay.

Will Volturi realize that betting on the less-safe option has the greater ability to turn a profit? He doesn't know. It's just as likely as it is unlikely. Volturi, he knows, has always been an unpredictable business for that reason.

By the time they return to their building, the afternoon is setting in with a mild heat and Masen's legs are aching for a stretch. He parks the car and tells the others to go off without him. Masen takes a few moments to himself, breathing deeply as he leans back against the car door, hands in his pockets and neck bent back, eyes closed to the red stain of sunlight on the inside of his lids.

They've done all they could. While it would be a dream fulfilled to work with Volturi on this game, he knows that if Volturi passes then it only means Midnight Sun can develop their _own_ game, a rival to DOW and whatever sequel Denali come up with. It would be just a matter of time and drumming up new investors from their mobile game reputation. They're halfway there already, he thinks, with the amount of money and returns on investment that is constantly passing through the Midnight Sun account.

_If we don't get this contract, then we simply make our own game our way_.

Either way, it will be Midnight Sun that will be dragging the industry into the future - this much he has absolutely zero doubts about.

It's as he's reflecting on these thoughts that two familiar voices filter through his hearing from across the street. He stays where he is, content to listen as Bella and his brother, who has dropped by the office for some reason that is a mystery to Masen, chat.

"I really can't thank you enough," Carlisle is saying.

"Really, it's nothing," Bella insists. "Honestly, you did me a favor! We're even now."

"I'd hardly think a few pointers on what, uh, viscera splatter would look like measures up to locating the spare key to my apartment."

Ah. Carlisle locked himself out again and must have come searching for Masen, who keeps a copy of Carlisle's key by habit just for situations such as this. Carlisle loses his keys often, usually because he's too tired to remember where he put them. They always turn up, just not when he needs them.

"We're even," Bella says firmly. "I found your key, and you found the right angle for the splatter. They're equally important."

"I suppose I have to believe you." Carlisle sighs, which shifts into a yawn. "Alright. I have to go and get some sleep before my shift starts."

"I'll remind Esme that you're a on a double," Bella offers helpfully.

"Thank you," Carlisle laughs. "I'd forgotten to tell her."

Bella giggles. "So now you really do owe me a favor!"

"I suppose I do!"

Masen feels a small, private smile turning his lips. He's gratified to know that Carlisle and Bella get along so well. It's satisfying to know, even, because they'll be in-laws someday if he has his way.

But that's another plan for another day. For now, he needs to set up an email alert for Marcus Volturi so he can know the results as soon as they are sent.

* * *

**A/N: Update 4 of 5 this weekend! Just moving things along and setting up the next arc in the story. I wonder if everyone caught the important bits? If not, it all pieces together soon!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay smart.**

**~Rae**


	42. the elsa solution

[Tumblr]

_**Anonymous **asked:_

_Sorry I don't have a fashion question  
I just saw one of your tags and I wanted to know  
what you meant about not being able to reach out?  
BC big mood tbh_

**forthright_foresight **

So, okay, have you ever done something that you were so ashamed of that you couldn't even figure out how to apologize? Or just struggled with saying sorry? That's what I mean.

The long and short of it is that I blew up at my friend, probably the best friend I'll ever have, when she didn't deserve it and I said some mean things that really didn't have anything to do with her at all because they're my issues, not hers, and now I don't know how to make it right. I mean, we haven't even seen each other in like three weeks and every time she sends a message I can't find the courage to reach back, so I just don't respond or I put off responding, and then that's worse because replying so long after the fact is just awkward, so I keep not responding and so on. You know?

And like, I know that I CAN just text her and say I'm sorry and she would meet me halfway because she's that type of person, but like I said - the shame of how I spoke to her has me frozen. And I feel like I need to get over my own issues, too, and I'm struggling with that as well. It's a whole thing. Can anyone else relate?

#realtalk #whysayingsorrygivesmeanxiety #anxiousbean #anonquestions #randomrant

**Toodle-Lou**

Have you tried the Elsa Solution?

(Gift Attachment: Elsa from _Frozen_ singing "Let It Go")

**forthright_foresight **hearts this post

* * *

**A/N: Update 5 of 5. See how Alice is handling it? All planned out, I promise! On another note, if you struggle with apologizing (most of us do) then you might try reading _Why Won't You Apologize_ by Harriet Lerner! Lerner also has written several books geared toward people - particularly women - understanding the cause of anger and fear (_The Dance of Anger_ and _The Dance of Fear). _Her book _The Dance of Deception_ might also be useful, which addresses why women hide their authentic selves, even from themselves. All important reads, in my humble opinion. The _Dance of Anger_ in particular gave me a lot of understanding.**

**Anyway! As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, stay healthy, and stay kind - keeping an open mind and a willingness to learn can make a world of difference. _Always_ question your initial assumptions and try to figure out the source of your original judgment. That's how you learn and change and grow for the better.**

**~Rae**


	43. chapter 20

**[chapter_20]**

Between all of Bella's new responsibilities, she has made the time to raise the two tiger monsters gifted as part of the prize packages for the video contest. Contrary to popular belief, raising the tiger monsters is a much bigger undertaking than anyone would first assume. Dawn of Warcraft has gone to great lengths to capture the realism of raising what is essentially a spiritual monster that is an extension of exclusive players. Everything about these monsters must be taken care of, particularly the feeding and watering. Just like any other skill, the overall raising of the tigers is something that levels up with time - the better Swansong can hunt for two hungry mouths, the stronger and faster the tigers grow. And this is all beside the _other_ rearing details, such as training the tigers for specific commands and behaviors that might be useful during battle.

It is, to put it simply, quite time-consuming. Bella isn't surprised at all that it's taken the better part of nearly two months to get the tigers past infancy and to a state of near-adulthood that will, eventually, pay off during gameplay. She definitely doesn't want to gift Masen's tiger until it is mostly trained and she doesn't want to use her own until he can use his. She imagines, to other players, that the two of them with their tiger monsters will be an intimidating sight - Masen will probably derive a deep pleasure from this, since that kind of unspoken intimidation is his niche.

All the same, Bella thinks the tigers are almost ready. Almost.

She yawns and clicks around, dragging her screen camera back and forth for a better view as she runs one tiger through the paces. It's late and she should be sleeping to prepare for the work she needs to get done at the internship tomorrow, but she is stubbornly staying awake until both tigers are on the same skill level.

"Come on, buddy," she says encouragingly, sending another command for the tiger, trying to bump its speed up one more point. "Your friend did this much easier, you know. Oh, my God. I'm talking to the tiger..."

Bella shakes her head. She really is tired, isn't she?

Still, she withholds going to bed until she is satisfied that the tigers have made the right amount of progress. The sooner she can gift these, the better. Hopefully they'll be done soon, if all goes according to plan.

After all, it seems like there will be a perfect opportunity for her to give the white tiger away, along with other prizes from the video contest prize package.

* * *

Lee Lee

Omfg

Okay

I'm done being home now

Can I leave

Bell Bell

It's not time yet

Lee Lee

Says you

I signed up to be a mentor

Bell Bell

Oh for the immersion program?

That's cool!

Lee Lee

Yeah so I get to come back earlyish anyway

You know

To shape young minds and become an

icon for the next generation

Bell Bell

Such humble plans

Lee Lee

Well I am a humble soul

Bell Bell

Right okay

Hey humble soul

Did you get your documentary done?

Last we talked you were key smashing

Lee Lee

I got over it lol

But I am happy to report that it's done

It's in PBS hands now

Did I tell you it made Old Quil cry

Bell Bell

No lol

He cried? Why?

Lee Lee

Because I'm that good sis

I'm just that good

Bell Bell

What if he cried because it sucked

Lee Lee

Why so mean to Leah?

Dont make me doubt my shit now

It's too late for me to change anything!

Bell Bell

You know I'm kidding

I'm sure it's great

I cant wait to stream it

Lee Lee

Ugh

Brb just got nauseous at the thought

Bell Bell

People see your stuff all the time

This is the same thing, but better

Chill out

Lee Lee

We stopped saying chill in middle school

Bell Bell

Let me live

Lee Lee

Speaking of living

Bell Bell

Oh boy

Lee Lee

How are you living these days

Shacking up and getting busy

Bell Bell

Honestly I'm mostly feeding fish

and watching Netflix

Lee Lee

Dont lie to me

You Netflix and chilled didnt you

Bell Bell

No!

Lee Lee

Dirty filthy rotten liar lol

Bell Bell

Kissing doesnt count

Does it

Lee Lee

Idk

I'm too ace for this

Ask Rose

Bell Bell

You were the one pressing!

Lee Lee

Because I'm an asshole lol

I dont actually want to know

Bell Bell

Siri set reminder to pinch

my sister when I see her

Lee Lee

Alexa dont let her do that

Bell Bell

Alexa has no authority here

Lee Lee

This is a godless nation

* * *

Bella has never been to a LAN party - and neither has most of her generation, she doesn't think because it's just something that missed them. Who needs to game at a single place and use the same LAN connection when there's high-speed internet and Wi-Fi everywhere? So, LAN parties aren't anything Bella has had the pleasure to experience herself, simply because they've mostly fallen out of fashion.

Mostly. Ask the boys at Midnight Sun and they'll contend that LAN parties are very much alive and well, which is why Bella finds herself in the middle of one halfway through the week. Most of the Midnight Sun employees have stayed late for the express purpose of participating in a server-wide challenge to beat the record time of an instance dungeon. Bella is gratified to learn how many of her coworkers are also huge DOW fans - it makes her wonder if Masen found a few of them through the game, or if it's just a happy coincidence. She should ask later.

As of right now, however, she is busy passing off a stack of pizza boxes to Peter and paying the delivery person. That done, she leads Peter around, directing him on which pizzas belong to which cluster of desks, even as she doles out soft drinks from the plastic bag that was delivered along with their order. By the time they are done, teams have been decided based on department, with the exceptions of the founding members of the company, and Bella, who as an intern, is decidedly neutral.

There is a feel of boyish excitement in the air. It's entertaining to see all of these seldom-serious faces becoming competitive with each other, cheerful trash talk being shouted back and forth through mouths half-full of food.

Bella stands away from it all, her elbow leaning on the kitchen bar-top where Masen, Peter, and Emmett have set up their own laptops. Alistair is grumbling about his arm, which has been itchy all day and is right now preventing him from playing with the rest of them. He has, however, made a point of saying that Bella will be playing for him because, "_she's my protégé, damnit_."

Peter had snorted and claimed being Alistair's so-called protégé is nothing compared to Bella being Masen's in-game spouse. This had, naturally, drawn some attention from the others, who had been confused at the statement.

"But, Masen is Master Culler, and Master Culler is married to Swansong…" Charles had said, a wrinkle in his brow.

Liam had rolled his eyes and called him an idiot.

Peter, of course, had jovially connected the dots. "Bella _is_ Swansong! Aha! What do you think? Surprising, right? Our very own intern is the one and only, the living legend, the best female player on our server, _the_ Swansong!"

Bella had been slightly mortified by the chorus of _oohs_ and _ahhs_ that followed. "I can't believe we know Swansong," the others had said. "Should we call you Swansong now?"

Bella had raised her hands and shook her head, because _no_, she should absolutely not be called Swansong in real life. She doesn't relish the attention and would have been perfectly happy to not be recognized as Swansong, thank you very much.

But then Alistair had just made it worse and said, "Did you gits forget about her Twitch?"

She'd stood sheepishly while they talked around her, nudging each other with their elbows and muttering with awe.

"I knew she looked familiar!"

"It really is Swanning! I thought I was imagining things."

"Swansong and Swanning are the same person?"

"Well, now that you mention it, the handles are kind of similar…aren't they?"

A laugh. "Hey, hey Bella! Is it a theme or are you just bad at coming up with names?"

"Both," she'd said, pursing her lips and crossing her arms.

Peter had draped a friendly arm over her shoulder. "You guys shouldn't tease her," he'd warned with a gleeful grin. "She could kick your ass with her eyes closed."

Reflecting on it, she doesn't think she'd ever been so glad that Masen can quiet a room with a single well-placed glare, because immediately after that, all the attention had died down as everyone miraculously found something to keep themselves busy. Bella had sent Masen a grateful smile and he had dipped his head to acknowledge it and that had been that.

Now, of course, Bella's previous grace has run out of time. Under Alistair's watchful eye, she logs into her Dawn of Warcraft account under Swansong, locates the correct portion of the map, and transports Swansong to the dungeon to await her turn with Master Culler, Pestulent, and Pythagoras.

"Which group is going first?" Emmett asks the room at large, and there is some jostling and shouting until it is determined that the programmers would be taking the first attempt.

"Do me proud, boys!" Peter calls out, right before shoving half a slice into his mouth.

Bella shifts her eyes to Masen, who is eating his pizza in neat, quick bites, placidly observing the room as the first team starts the dungeon under a ten-minute timer. He meets her eye and shoots her a wink, and Bella ducks her head, hurriedly eating her own slice before it's time for her team to go.

She decides very quickly that while the atmosphere is chaotic, she appreciates it more than she thought she would. She's never really played the same game in a group like this before. Sure, the odd internet café and sitting in front of an Xbox with Seth and the La Push boys is one thing, but this is different. It makes her wonder why LAN parties fell out of style, even if they weren't strictly necessary for sharing bandwidth. Some people still do them, particularly avid gamers, but more often than not it's not a formal thing.

Maybe it should be? Like a company reward or something. Don't other companies do team-building exercises? Why can't a gaming start-up have LAN parties? She resolves to mention it to Masen soon, because surely regular gaming sessions would be more effective than trust-fall exercises.

Smiling to herself, Bella figures now is the perfect opportunity to unload the video contest prizes. Maybe being around Masen so much has made her more strategic, but she figures it wouldn't hurt if her team could use equipment with higher damage points. Scrolling through her inventory, she sends Alistair, Peter, and Emmett their new top-level equipment. She waits, casting a side-long glance as Emmett makes a curious sound at the notification on his screen and Peter makes a _meeping_ sound as opens the notification up.

"Holy shit, holy shit," Peter breathes, rubbing his greasing hands on his shirt. "Is this what I think it is? Oh, it _is_. Oh man, I've been looking for this! Bella! How?"

"Contest prizes," she answers simply.

Emmett whistles lowly. "Some damn prizes."

Bella smiles, then looks to Alistair. "Yours has been sent to your account, too."

Alistair's normally sour expression softens. "Well then, now I really can't wait to get this stupid thing off my arm," he says, shooting a narrow-eyed look at his cast, which is now a little worse for wear.

"Hey, Masen, aren't you jealous?" Peter goads, leaning around Emmett to wiggle his brows teasingly. "Your wife gave us presents but you didn't get anything."

Masen lifts a brow and Bella laughs when Peter wilts under the stare. She says, "Actually, I'm sending his over right now."

Both Emmett and Peter crowd around Masen's computer when it dings. A moment passes, and then immediately Peter is whooping in delight and Emmett is saying an appreciative _damn_ and Masen is raising his head to give her a smile that makes heat creep up her cheeks.

"A white tiger! A freakin' white tiger! Masen, my man, do you see this?"

"Mm."

"Is it battle-ready?" Emmett asks eagerly.

Bella's lips turn upward. "Should be. I did my best," she says, and on her screen a private chat dialogue opens up.

《 **Master Culler**: thank you

》**Swansong**: it's your part of the prize, no need to thank me

《 **Master Culler**: all the same, it's greatly appreciated

Bella bites her lip to smother the silly grin she's sure is going to explode across her face. She pulls up her own tiger, this one orange and blacked striped, to prowl around Swansong.

Alistair clicks his tongue, head tilted to her screen. "What's a Night Elf that can shift into a cat going to do with a tiger?"

"You'll see," Bella says coolly and Alistair snorts.

Peter, meanwhile, has grown antsy waiting for their turn. Their group has been elected to go last, so there is plenty of time to kill. Of course, Peter's short attention span means that he is no longer entertained with his new equipment by the time the second team is going. "Come on, come on," he says, bouncing on his toes. "I'm ready to set some records, bitches!"

Emmett raps the back of his head. "Hey, hey! Not that word in my house, bro."

"It's my house too!"

"It's still derogatory," Alistair says flatly.

"Women can say it to each other," Peter points out. "Is it derogatory then?"

Emmett considers this. "Maybe. But they're, like, reclaiming it. Right, Bella?" he checks.

"Oh! Um…" Bella scrunches her nose in thought. Is bitch derogatory when women say it? Yes and no, because honestly Leah and Rose throw the word around all the time without a thought and Bella hasn't ever taken any offense to it. Of course, just because she isn't offended by it doesn't mean it isn't offensive, and she can imagine that if someone who _wasn't_ her friend called her a bitch she wouldn't take kindly to it. Emmett and Peter are still looking at her for an answer, and even Masen has tilted his head in curiosity. "Kind of?" she says, settling on an opinion. "But it also depends on, like, the context."

"Fine," Peter says. "Biotches, then. Happy?"

"A fair compromise, I think," Alistair says.

"Even if you do sound like some leet-speak douche circa 2004," Emmett adds.

"I can't believe I'm being censored in my own home!" Peter whines. "This is just sad."

"Your life is just sad," Emmett says.

Peter flips him off with both hands.

"Maybe if you weren't being problematic, you wouldn't be censored," Alistair mutters.

"I heard that!" Peter says loudly. "And fuck you too, Al. Maybe _you're_ problematic!"

Alistair sneers. "How am I problematic?"

"How _aren't_ you problematic?" Peter shoots back.

Alistair pushes off the counter, his pale eyes cold. "Come over here and say that to my face."

Peter snorts. "You wouldn't be able to take me, Gimpy."

Bella does a poor job of concealing her laughter now, especially when Emmett mutters something under his breath that has Peter turning his nose up and claiming, "Beat my ass? You're not even fit to kiss my ass!"

"Just you wait, you knucklehead," Emmett says darkly, cracking his knuckles. It might have been a menacing gesture had Emmett not been such an overgrown teddy bear, but as it is, even though Emmett is taller and broader than the others, all it does is make Peter chortle.

"Knucklehead?" Peter echoes mockingly. "Oho! Listen, the nineties called and they want their tired slang back!"

"Alright, that's it!" Emmett declares, standing up from the round stool at the counter. "Sorry, everyone, I just need to kill Pete real quick-"

Masen pointedly clears his throat, and they all fall silent, mock glaring at each other even as they calm down. Bella looks on in amazement. She doesn't know how Masen can possibly keep a straight face or be so calm in the face of such chaos, and it's unfathomable that a single noise from him can still the waters so quickly. It is, however, hopelessly attractive, that ease of control, that steadfast veneer.

Bella studies the sharp angles of his profile, tracing down the bridge of his nose and the jut of his chin, basking in that solid solemn countenance until Alistair nudges the hand on her mouse. She jerks her eyes away and when she looks at Alistair, he appears devilishly amused at her preoccupation. Bella bites her lip, bashful at being caught.

Soon enough it's their turn to complete the instance dungeon. Of the three groups that have gone before, only group two - the engineering team - have managed to shave time off the dungeon record by a ten-second margin, which is nothing to sneeze at. Bella's group shares the same goal, but she thinks the dungeon itself is challenging. Not to mention the personalities involved.

"Hey!" Peter yelps beside her, Pestulent jolting on the screen as Pythagoras uses him as target practice . "You can't do that!"

Emmett chortles. "What? It's friendly fire."

"Friendly fire my ass!" Peter shouts.

Wordlessly, Masen restores Peter's health points, shooting Emmett a _look_ that has him rolling his eyes and playing nice.

"What do we know about this dungeon?" Alistair asks.

Without much thought, Bella is the one who answers, even as she double-checks her inventory and the game map. "This is the Wizeowle dungeon, so we're in Jabba Desert where we're mainly going to want to avoid the Tremor-knockoff sand serpents. The objective is to find an underground library that has been partially buried by sand, retrieve the Forgotten Books, which are guarded by an assortment of booby-traps and corpses that have been animated by the Wizeowle, an overgrown owl with a serpent neck who can and will try to eat us whole," she explains. "The trouble with this dungeon is the booby-traps are randomized, so no single try is exactly like another, which means those traps are impossible to avoid. The animated corpses are also programmed by strength, so if there are strong fighters in the party, then the corpses are calibrated to match them. And then the Wizeowle has this shriek attack that paralyzes players after a while, so we also need to be fast and…."

Bella trails off, realizing that not only her group is looking at her, but also a few of the others who have drifted from their own groups to watch her group play.

"Sorry," she says, cheeks burning red. She hadn't even realized she'd slipped into the mentoring tone she uses as Swanning, which when realizes can be presumptuous and patronizing to those who have not explicitly asked for advice. It's a mortifying gaffe. "It's just...habit."

"Mm." Masen lets his eyes drift over her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Helpful."

"Mase, my dude, my master of the understatement, that was _way_ more than just helpful," Peter crows. "Did you all hear that? We have _two_ master tacticians on our team!"

"This isn't fair!" someone calls from the back, laughing.

"Next time, you guys aren't allowed to stack the deck so heavily," Charles chimes in. "Liam and I get Bella next."

"What, you don't want Boss-man?" Peter queries jokingly.

Liam shakes his head. "You can keep him!"

Bella giggles, shrugging her shoulders at Masen's mildly bemused expression. Fortunately, that sense of levity continues through the instance dungeon. Bella thought she might have felt nervous playing live in front of so many people crowded around the table, but she falls into the same comfort as any of her Twitch streams. It's kind of the same, isn't it? She might be playing with a group, but there is the occasional question that she answers without a thought and apparently a few of these boys know her as Swanning, anyway. She plays with as much ease as normal, right at Master Culler's flank, trading offense and defense with him; she slinks around in her cat shift, blending into the shadows as she sends her tiger out to retrieve the Forgotten Books; she twists around the barrage Pestulent and Pythagoras unleash on the animated corpses and she helps Master Culler land the final blow on Wizeowle. Her fingers don't stop moving for a second, her eyes locked on the screen. As they near the end of the dungeon, someone starts yelling out a count down to how many seconds they have to spare to beat the record.

Bella's group emerges from the sandy rubbles of Wizeowle's lair with sixteen seconds shaved off the all-time record. She lets out an enthusiastic _yes_, high-fives Peter and Emmett and Alistair, and grins widely at Masen when he places a hand on the small of her back.

So far as LAN parties and work functions go, Bella doesn't think any can beat this sense of elation and camaraderie. This is, she thinks, a memory she can cherish.

* * *

Bella

Hey Ali

I saw your tumblr update

Are you okay?

Bella

Hey Ali

You know you don't have to

worry about reaching out

Right?

I'm here when you're ready

Alice

Hey Bells…

Bella

Hi!

How are you?

Alice

Better

Bella

That's good

Alice

Yeah…

Bells

Can we meet up soon?

I need to apologize in person

for being such a brat

You didn't deserve any of that

Those were my own issues

Bella

Are you free this weekend?

Alice

Yes

Absolutely

Bella

Then I'll see you at our place

You know the one?

Alice

I'll be there

Just tell me when

Bella

:)

Alice

:)

* * *

Thursday finds Bella in a tizzy of nerves. The whole day she is jumpy, strung on edge in a way that is very much not like herself. She pops up and down from her new desk, a nimble white contraption that can go from standing to sitting and that had been installed overnight, a sort of surprise when she came into the office. One of the boys had even tied a ribbon onto the chair.

Bella had not cried about it, but it was a near thing. Not one to be close to tears so quickly, she knows the reason for the jitter in her limbs and the height of her emotions is some kind of delayed-stress response to the whole thing with Alice. Because Alice had finally reached back, had finally met Bella halfway. Hopefully that means Alice is doing better than before. She takes it as an encouraging sign that Alice wants to meet up and talk about it face-to-face. Although Bella is a creature of her times and, like the rest of her generation, finds texting more convenient, there are some things that just can't be done over a virtual space. Soulful apologies between life-long friends are just one of those things that have to be done in person.

Bella is eager for the resolution. It's been so shockingly difficult these past three weeks to be out of contact with Alice, who she is much closer to than Rose. Bella hadn't even realized how important Alice has become to her until she realized she associated so many things with her friend - from giving Esme clumsy fashion advice to avoiding the fruity frozen yogurts Alice prefers. It hasn't been quite like missing a limb, which is what Bella feels when she and Leah have a rare fight, but it's close.

This weekend she might get her friend back - and more importantly, she might finally come to understand what exactly happened to cause her friend to spiral so quickly. Bella has an itch to fix the problem, to prevent it from happening again. She wants the weekend to be _now_ and that's why she's been fumbling the entire day.

Masen has been kind enough to quietly observe this, but the others had taken to teasing her. She takes it good-naturedly because she knows these guys by now and she understands that teasing is simply what most twenty-somethings do.

Still, when the day comes to a close and the last of them filter out of the office, Bella can't help but be a little relieved. Just a little.

While Alistair immediately goes upstairs for "a sodding nap", Peter cites his hungry stomach and wheels off to that food truck he's always loitering at. Emmett lingers in the office, shooting a glance at where Masen has been talking on the phone for half-an-hour their main investor, then sidles up close to Bella. She takes in his inexplicably nervous expression with mild curiosity. Emmett hasn't ever been nervous around Bella; out of all of them, he treats her the most like Seth, which is to say he treats her like a little sister, one who is kind of chill but also a girl who he can't relate totally with. That Emmett is decidedly un-Emmett at the moment is cause for some bemusement.

"So, Bella," Emmett starts with faux ease. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

Her brows lift. "You have? What about?"

Entertainingly, Emmett turns his face away, making a show of looking at everything _but_ her. "I. Uh. Well." Emmett coughs. "It's about - see, the thing is - uh…"

Bella, who has spent the last while weaving through the computer clusters to gather stray snack wrappers and the like from desks, stops completely to give Emmett her full attention.

"Emmett, what is it?" When Emmett simply turns red in the face, Bella squints in thought and tries to venture a guess. "Did you…need me to buy something? I can be discreet. Or, is it something else, like-"

"Rose Hale!" Emmett bursts out. If it had been Peter, he might have clapped his hand over his mouth afterward, but because this is Emmett, he turns beet-red and wide-eyed and very much looks like he would prefer the ground to swallow him whole.

Bella blinks. "I…what? What about Rose?"

Emmett finally looks at her, head tilted down bashfully, which shouldn't have worked on a man with such a large frame but - again, Emmett truly is a teddy bear, isn't he? "Rose H-Hale," he says again. "She's, uh, I mean, I noticed that you were, or you have been, you know, on her Instagram and I thought, maybe, you might introduce me? To her."

Emmett wants to meet Rose?

Bella purses her lips, thoughts speeding through her mind. Emmett follows Rose's Instagram, which isn't anything strange since _a significant amount_ of people follow Rose - at last check, she had more than 2 million followers. That Emmett wants to meet Rose also isn't surprising, and neither is the fact that he recognized Bella from Rose's feed, because it's true that she is in the background often enough. None of this strikes Bella as odd. It's not even the first time she's been approached by someone so they could meet Rose.

And yet - something about this is jogging a memory. Maybe it's his demeanor or the way he says Rose's name, but Bella has a strong, striking sense of familiarity. It takes a moment and then it clicks.

"Oh…Hey, I've met you before, haven't I? Kind of." Bella smiles at Emmett's blank stare. "You're Library Guy!"

"Library Guy?" Emmett echoes.

Bella nods. "Uh-huh. There's been this guy on campus for, I don't know, the last year or so who always managed to find Rose at the library. I think I can remember you trying to talk to her about…differentials. Peter was there too…"

Emmett grimaces. "That does sound like me."

Bella agrees.

Emmett rallies quickly. "So, she already knows me!"

A sense of disbelief washes over her. "Well, I wouldn't say that…" she hedges, but Emmett doesn't seem to hear her or maybe he's simply stopped listening.

"I'm Library Guy," he says proudly, a wide grin spreading across his face, his cheeks dimpling. "I'm Rose Hale's Library Guy. I can be that. I can do that. Oh, man, this is great!"

Bella honestly fails to see how any of that is _great_, but she tries to be supportive. He doesn't need to know that Rose thinks of Library Guy as an annoying fly she has to swat away. To tell him that would be mean and Bella tries to never be mean.

"Did you want me to introduce you when she's back in town?" she offers, because Rose _might_ agree if she knows someone else would be paying the tab, or if she got a high level of entertainment value out of it. Knowing Emmett, he's guaranteed to provide both.

"Nah. I'm Library Guy," he boasts proudly. "I think I'm good! But I'll keep your offer in mind, just in case my own manly wiles aren't enough!"

Bella _does not_ respond, even though the urge is there. She lets it go. It's a rare thing to see Emmett so effusive. He's an upbeat guy in general, but he doesn't typically radiate the same kind of happy-go-lucky that Peter does, and seeing him so cheered by the knowledge that Rose has a not-so-affectionate name for him is endearing. She supposes he's just happy to be known by her.

Actually, Bella can _relate_, having been in the same place before Masen knew she - or Swansong - existed. She does, however, resolve to snoop through the comments on Rose's Instagram later to see if she can find him. She's curious about the kind of comments a guy like Emmett would leave.

Emmett bounds off, taking the stairs two at a time, and Bella goes back to cleaning up the office. Masen is still busy and she doesn't want to leave without saying good-bye. Esme will be home this evening, so the fish don't exactly need Bella's attention, either. She has some time to waste before she needs to leave. With that thought in mind, Bella bustles around the office to do some basic housekeeping, hunting down a can of air to clean out a few messy keyboards, and spritzing everything down with disinfectants. Recalling that the refrigerator is currently weighed down with week-old take-out that is surely on the verge of spoiling, Bella meanders to the kitchen, turning over a design idea in her head as she cleans out the fridge.

She is admittedly paying less attention than usual, which is why she doesn't notice the trash can is full until it's almost spilling over. Bella hastily ties up the trash and tries to lift the bag from the can, but the bag is too full and it's actually heavier than she thought and the can is clinging to the bag. By the time gravity starts to work, it's a quick slip-shod surprise that has the now-empty trash can banging down on her foot.

Bella yelps, hopping onto one foot as she drops the trash bag. She's shuffling around on one foot in the kitchen, trying to put everything back in order now that it's been cleaned out, and that's how Masen finds her.

"Bella? Are you okay? I heard…" Masen trails off. She can almost feel the weight of his stare as his eyes settle on her foot, the corners of his mouth turning down at the corners. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing," she says, wincing as she tries to put weight on her foot. "Just a stubbed toe. Or three."

"Here, let me," Masen says, and then before she quite knows what's happening, Masen's hands are on her waist and he easily lifts her onto the counter.

Heart pounding, Bella lets out a little gasp. Masen is stronger than he looks, isn't he? And broader. She always forgets how broad his shoulders are, but now that she's eye-level with them she can't help but focus on the way his shoulders fill out his crisp shirt.

Masen moves away to rummage through the freezer and returns with an ice pack, which he wraps up in a paper towel. When he goes to take the canvas shoe off her foot, she flinches back. "Oh, you don't have to. It's okay, it doesn't even really hurt" she says quickly.

"Want to," Masen says simply, pulling off her shoe. His hand is gentle as he holds her foot, his thumb rubbing against the delicate jut of her ankle bone as he places the ice directly on her reddened toes.

"Masen," she murmurs. She doesn't know what else to say. Her heart feels like its trembling between her ribs.

His grey-green eyes rise swiftly, pinning her into place. There is a furrow in his brow, a new kind of tension in his jaw. He looks worried, she realizes. Worried for her, even over such a minor injury. It's not like she's bleeding or anything is broken, but he doesn't seem to care about those details. She is hurt, so he is fixing it.

Her heart leaps right into her throat as she stares at him, acutely aware of how close their bodies are. He's right between her knees, not directly facing her, but still close enough that his heat is seeping into her skin.

"You didn't ask for help," he says, looking back down at her foot and readjusting the ice. He seems content to stand and play at being an ice-pack, seemingly in no rush to do anything except this.

"I didn't want to bother you," Bella tells him quietly, her eyes zeroed in on his tender hold. "You were on an important phone call. It was just that stupid trash can…"

"Silly."

Bella starts, blinking rapidly. "Huh?"

"You're being silly," Masen clarifies. There's a secret hidden in the quirk of his lips, the warmth in his eyes, a warmth she knows is only shared with her. "You're the only one in the world who is allowed to bother me."

"Oh," she breathes. A flush crawls up her cheeks because _she can't believe he said that_. The implication makes her heart tremor again. She is the only one who is allowed to bother him, who is allowed to interrupt him when he's busy, and that, she thinks, means _something_ very significant.

There are unspoken words there, ones she can hear even though he does not speak them.

So. _Oh_, indeed.

"Actually," he continues, his voice dropping as he shifts, turns toward her so her knees are on either side of his hip bones, the ice dropping from his hand so his palm can stroke up the length of her calf. His hand settles there, stroking the knob of her knee. "I like it when you bother me."

Bella's breath feels heavy. Her mind has fixated on the way his hand feels against her bare skin. She's wearing linen shorts that, when standing, have a modest hem - but right now, sitting on the counter with Masen between her spread legs, their length feels utterly indecent. She feels exposed. Has her knee always been so sensitive? He has a few callouses on his hands, mostly at the tips of his fingers, and they scratch wonderfully against her skin.

She raises her eyes slowly, looking at him beneath her lashes, fighting the warring desires to hide her face bashfully and to clutch at him desperately. She wants that hand to stay there, or maybe to travel to other places. He likes to place his hand on the small of her back, his arm around her shoulders or her waist, a palm against her cheek - but what would that touch feel like if it lingered, if it landed on less innocent places? For the first time in her life, Bella wants to know. Her curiosity is insatiable and it makes her mouth drop open, eyes fluttering.

She doesn't know what to do, or how to ask for what she wants, so she looks at Masen and hopes that he can understand, that he can know what it is she's yearning for.

Masen does.

The hand on her knee strokes higher, following the line of her thigh until it almost, but not quite, breaches the hemline of her shorts. His other hand reaches up, cupping beneath her chin to tilt her face up. His intense gaze flickers around her face, between her eyes and her mouth, focusing on the lip she has drawn into her mouth.

Masen leans forward, just a breath away, and pauses. He stares earnestly, a quiet question of _can I_ and _will you let me_ that Bella answers by tilting forward to brush her mouth against his. She barely pulls back before Masen has captured her lips again - and it feels like he is trying to drink her in, sipping at her lips, licking into her mouth until she gasps and shivers and clenches her fists into his once-pristine shirt.

Bella wiggles closer, heart galloping, even as Masen's touch shifts again, both hands sliding across her body to circle her waist and tug her closer. He is leaning hard into the counter and only by the virtue of his hand supporting her spine does she not bend backward. It's as if he can't get close enough, like he could never be close enough, like he wants to crawl into her skin as much as she wants to crawl into his.

The angle of the kissing shifts, his mouth slanting messily over hers. She flattens her palms against his chest, feeling the pounding behind his sternum, pushing her touch up to learn the shape of his shoulders by feel. Her arms cross around the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper, her knees squeezing around his hips as she squirms at the heat gathering beneath her naval.

Masen's teeth close around her bottom lip, tongue lashing at the bite before he pulls away, just enough so they can breathe. Bella is panting, turning her cheek to rest against his, but Masen, it seems, is not done yet. His heavy breath follows his lips as they skim down her jaw to her neck, where he mouths at her pulse. Bella whines, gasps, lets out a tiny sound when the kisses at her neck shift from soft to something heated, something dark like possession but just as sweet as worship. He draws her flesh into his mouth, sucking and nipping and laving at her skin to soothe the ache he leaves behind, all the while his hands have skirted down her spine to rest just over her rump. This touch holds her in place, pulls her closer, which Bella doesn't even think is _possible_ because she's clutching at his nape, holding him close to her neck, her fingers digging into the copper-bronze of his hair -

And then there is a clatter upstairs and a banging of a fist on wood and a voice that sounds like Alistair telling Emmett to _shut your idiot face so I can sleep, you arsehole!_

Bella and Masen don't exactly _spring_ apart, but they definitely do separate. Between the two of them, Bella is more skittish, flushing up to the roots of her hair, struggling to make eye contact; Masen, on the other hand, has turned his head up to level perfectly blank stare at the ceiling, frowning minutely up at the second floor.

His lips are very red right now. Her own lips are tingling, pulsing with a faint rawness that is matched by the tender throb on the side of her neck. She reaches up without thinking, her fingertips skimming over her damp skin, pressing down curiously - and she releases a little _meep_ when it connects that Masen Cullen has just given her a hickey.

Masen looks at her, head tilted, a smirk creeping across his face. He looks _smug_ in a way that is both horribly attractive and horribly annoying.

He actually gave her a _hickey_. In a very visible place. In the middle of summer, where there is no convenient way to hide it.

On purpose? She wouldn't put it past him. He's a ridiculous man, sometimes, using that cerebral, calculating intelligence for the most minor of whims. Minor to her, at least. Who knows what's going on in that head of his.

She narrows her eyes at him, drops her hand, and pokes him right in the chest. Hard.

Masen's smirk widens. "Maybe you should bother me more," he suggests.

Her face feels impossibly hot. "Masen," she complains.

"Mm."

"I'll get you back for this," she threatens.

His smirk is now a smile, a tender sort of thing that makes her blush for entirely different reasons. He leans forward, pressing the sweetest kiss on her cheek. "I look forward to it," he murmurs, lips just at the corner of her mouth.

Bella feels dizzy. And hot. And thirsty. Very thirsty.

"W-water," she croaks out.

Masen hums and pulls away, crossing to the newly-reorganized refrigerator to pull out a bottle of water, which he opens and gives to her with a wry look. Bella averts her eyes and guzzles down half the body, trying to locate some sense of normalcy while her mind is spinning spinning spinning. She's still trying to gather herself when Masen, now leaning on the counter beside idly playing with the ice pack that had fallen on the floor, brings up the a topic she hasn't quite been able to forget - with the exception, of course, of when his tongue had been in her mouth.

"Saw you on your phone earlier. Good news?" he wonders. "You looked happy."

"Alice texted me," Bella says after a moment. "She wants to apologize in person. We're meeting tomorrow night."

"Mm."

"It's good timing," she continues, turning the water bottle around and around in her hand. "I mean, it would be nice to make up before we all have to move back into the dorm, and Leah is coming back next week. I can't stay with Esme forever, either. Kebi is supposed to come back soon I think."

"I see."

Bella casts him a side-long glance, trying to place that subtle tone in his voice. "You…aren't happy?"

Masen shakes his head. "It isn't that. I'm not unhappy. It's good that you're about to find a resolution, but I will miss you."

Warmth blossoms between her ribs and Bella offers a tiny, sweet smile. "You know the fall semester is coming up."

Masen nods gravely. "Such is the difficulty in dating a college girl," he says with deadpan, facetious humor.

Bella laughs, throwing her head back, and that is how Peter finds them - laughing together in the kitchen, Bella still seated on the counter - when he comes back. Peter comes to a dead stop in the lobby space, staring at them with a scandalized sort of horror. He brings up his hand, pointing at them with wide eyes.

"Masen doesn't laugh!" Peter yelps. "Bella! Get away from him! Masen doesn't _do_ laughter, so this is some kind of pod person!"

Masen snorts and Bella can only laugh harder.

"Emmett! Alistair!" Peter yells in alarm. He dashes for the stairwell, leaning on the railing as he continues shouting. "Help! There's - we have - something is wrong with Masen! A-and Bella! They've been possessed!"

No response comes from upstairs.

Peter stomps his foot. "Hey, assholes! Don't ignore me! We have a _thing_ happening! Do you hear me? Hey!"

Bella laughs until her stomach aches.

* * *

**A/N: To the Facebook peeps - was I right or what? Icing injuries can be sexy! Also, you guys, _Emmett_. Need I say more?**

**Anyway there's a thing to explain! Leah is coming back to campus earlier because she signed up the be a mentor in Stanford's Native Immersion Program, which part of a cultural program that helps freshmen and transfer students transition into the college with a cultural-community support system; the immersion program is time-honored and generally scheduled _right_ before the fall semester begins and is, interestingly, still _tentatively_ scheduled to continue this year among COVID-19.**

**Just for a survey, where do you fall on the _bitch_ thing? Is it derogatory always, or only from cis males? I'm not sure what my opinion is. Just like any other word, this one depends on the context in which it's used - because being called a bitch can still be an insult when spoken in anger, but it can also be used in a friendly manner or even with sarcasm. **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside (if you can), stay healthy - and put pressure on assholes who don't wear masks even though they definitely should because it's the literal least anyone could ever do, ever, and also keep pushing for reform and investigations for victims of gross and wrongful police brutality. Also, finger-snaps for San Francisco, who are now going to employ unarmed first responders to non-violent 911 calls (you can learn more about this story at LATimes).**

**~Rae**


	44. hot chef is who now

**[hot chef is who now]**

Masen swaggers into the office twenty minutes later than he _said_ he was going to be there, which is so unlike him that Peter briefly entertains the idea that he's somehow been transported to a parallel alternate dimension where everyone is the same, except _not exactly_. Peter squints at Masen, notes the red of his mouth and the tousle of his hair, and then banishes the Alternate Dimension Theory altogether.

Masen is late because he was busy getting busy with Bella, who as far as Peter knows, has been personally escorted to some frozen yogurt shop for a long-awaited make-up with her friend. Obviously, because he is proving to be a red-blooded male and _not,_ as Peter had suspected, a cold-blooded lizard-man, Masen had taken the opportunity to squeeze in some squeezin' time before he deigned to return back to work.

Peter isn't sure if he would prefer the alternate dimension. Seriously, like, Masen being _normal _and not a close approximation of Android 17 is messing with Peter. Like, he's obviously happy that his bro is happy or whatever, but also at the same time - Masen _laughs_ out loud now instead of smirking his ass off and he, like, actually responds to texts instead of just leaving everyone on read. He's still an asshole, of course, because he's Masen and he was born with arrogance instead of blood, but he's, like, almost like a _normal_ person now. Would alternate dimension Masen be the same? Maybe. Or maybe not. Peter doesn't know. Didn't those physicists say the parallel universe was moving backward? Yeah, hard fucking pass from Peter. He doesn't want to go back to high school, no way, never again.

But back to the point - should Peter make a reference to Masen's lateness? Nah. That's just like inviting trouble. It's a trap and Peter is _not_ falling for it, thanks.

Instead, Peter focuses back on the bigger problem at hand, which is now Huge and he is _sick_ of it. "Great! Now that Masen's here, can we nail the motherfucker hacking into my computer? I'm tired of looking at these damn monks!"

"Are they too handsome?" Alistair wonders.

"That one guy was pretty ripped," Emmett acknowledges, looking at his own arms.

"They could be lady monks and I'd still be pissed!" Peter says defensively. Although, like, Emmett _did_ have a point that some of those monks had real nice arms. Nobody is skipping Arm Day in Tibet, he guesses. Not that he _cares_, but still.

Emmett scoffs.

"I think you mean nuns," Alistair says flatly.

Peter rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Lady monks, nuns, it's all the same." Peter trots after Masen, dogging his heels until Masen looks at him with a muted sigh and goes to sit at Peter's computer. Peter points at the incriminating evidence and says, "See! Do you see? I've been victimized again. Fix it."

Masen does what he does best, which is to say absolutely nothing, do something mystical to Peter's computer that he, as a programmer, should be able to follow but that he really, truly does not, and then sit back with the air of a man who has just solved all the world's problems.

Peter watches and waits eagerly for a sign. The sign doesn't come because unlike the other times Masen has done this, Peter's desktop screen is _still_ monks praying in front of a temple. "Well," Peter says at length. "The fuck just happened?"

"Invitation," Masen replies, standing from the chair and wandering around to the kitchen. Emmett and Alistair, who are seated at the barstools, join Peter's confusion.

"Invitation?"

"Invitation to what?"

"The hacker's funeral, maybe?"

"That lacks class. Masen would never."

Masen takes a generous swig from a bottle of water. "Invitation to a challenge," he clarifies. At the three blank stares he receives in response, Masen is compelled to clarify. "Global Blackhat Hacker Challenges."

"What is that? How do you know about that?" Emmett asks, sounding just as surprised as Peter feels, because _yeah, Masen, how do you know about underground hacker challenges what the fuck_?

But Peter flaps his hands, moving quickly beyond a question he knows will never be answered to his satisfaction. "Wait, wait! Are you - did you throw down a gauntlet for this guy?"

"Mm."

Peter preens. Holy shit, he feels _really important_ right now, because Masen is going to take some guy down for Peter, and if that isn't the type of spirit life-long friendships are made of then -

"Hacker has talent. I'd like him on our team," Masen adds, and all of Peter's pride promptly vanishes.

"I don't want to work with some asshole who's been targeting me with monks!" Peter whines.

"I'm with Pete on this one," Emmett says with a twist of his features. "Do we will really want to work with someone like that?"

"Talent is talent," Alistair says. Alistair, of course, is inclined to agree with Masen. He's still a little fucked up about the accident and hasn't directly disagreed with anything Masen does since.

Does Alistair have a point? Maybe…But still!

"What talent could a hacker possibly have that we would want? We already have the best of the best here!" Peter insists.

"We're up for that Volturi contract," Alistair counters. "If we get that, then we're going to have to shuttle through Menagerie, which means we need more people to do both projects."

"It pains me to admit it," Emmett says, shaking his head. "But Al does have a point. Hey, Mase, have we heard back from Volturi yet?"

"Mm."

Peter leaps up along with Emmett and Alistair. "What? When? When did we hear? What did they say? Do we have the project? Did we beat those Denali dicks?"

Masen screws the cap back onto his bottle. "Today," he answers. His expression is just as flat as ever, but Peter thinks he _might_ see a glint in his eyes that only comes around when Masen is in the mood to PWN some idiots. "Volturi have elected to decide the creators of DOW2 after the submission of demo."

"Hold on, we didn't get it?"

"Not yet," Masen says.

"But. But _why?"_ Peter asks plaintively. "We already put together all those little demos for our presentation and our ideas were good! We should have gotten it."

Masen has a faraway look in his eye when he answers. "Business is about certainty. We made promises. Volturi wants to be sure we can deliver."

"So, what you're saying is that Volturi likes us, but we aren't a sure thing," Emmett surmises.

"And that Denali's ideas, while likely inferior, appear more achievable," Alistair adds with a curl of his lips.

"Mm."

"That's not fair!" Peter says hotly. "We're way better than those Denali dipshits!"

"We'll prove it," Masen says, as if that's the easiest thing in the world, as if it's the most obvious conclusion, like a foregone thing.

"What does that mean for Menagerie?" Alistair asks.

"Yeah, are we going to have to shelve it? The investors won't be happy." Emmett frowns, probably already thinking about the numbers he'll have to turn over to make _that_ work.

"No need," Masen answers. "The Volturi demo is due just before Christmas. We have time."

That's only, like, four months. Less than four, really, because Menagerie is still two months from completion even if everyone is working around the clock. But Masen says that they have time and, hell, Masen hasn't ever been wrong before. So. Peter can only slump over the counter and say a silent prayer for his fingers, which are certain to fall off with the months of coding coding coding that Peter has ahead of him.

Ugh. _More work_.

"Chin up, Pete," Emmett says cheerfully, clapping a hand across Peter's back. "If Mase is right, then this hacker guy will help us get it all done."

Peter scrunches his face up. Oh, _sure_, it's _great_. The guy that has been tormenting Peter for weeks is _apparently_ the answer to all of Midnight Sun's new problems. How convenient.

Peter hates this hacker guy twice as much now. Dick. Hacker Dude probably set this all up just so he can get the skinny on what Midnight Sun is doing for Volturi. He wants in on the action! He wants a share of the pie! Ha! As if! Peter can see through that bullshit a mile away!

And, yeah, _maybe_ it's a bit of a convoluted plot to, like, hack only into Peter's computer and change only Peter's wallpaper - but! But Peter _is_ a founding member of the company! He could have some interesting shit on his hard drive that someone might want to steal! He does have a few cool algorithms that aren't done yet - but, _oh boy_, when they are, they'll be something that someone _wants_ to steal.

Peter is going to encrypt the ever-loving shit out of all his stuff now. That'll show this wiseass Hacker Dude with his suspicious timing and his suspicious targeting of only Peter.

Oh, hell. _Only_ Peter is being targeted. Is Peter the weak link? What the fuck? That sucks. He doesn't want to be the weak link. Alistair can be the weak link! Why does it have to be Peter? Ugh. Well, if he is the weak link, then he'll just -

From across the room, Peter's computer dings - and his stomach drops, because _ugh_, now it's time to actually _deal_ with this guy. Or, well, time for Masen to deal with him, which he does with that stupidly impressive flair he always has.

Now, okay. Peter isn't a hacker. He doesn't get the whole point, mostly because it seems like a lot of effort, and he's _already_ a master programmer and he doesn't have the need to wear as many hats as Masen constantly does. But all the same, even Peter's programming brain can't quite follow the challenges for this blackhat challenge thing. Masen, on the other hand, seems to breeze through it along with Peter's hacker. The whole thing takes two or three hours. Emmett gathers snacks while they all sit behind Masen, watching the timer tick down, and the screen prod through what would be considered the computer version of gymnastics.

Peter eats Sun Chips and despairs, grumpily looking on. He wishes he was cool enough to be playing some global hacking challenge. He should work on that, or else he really will be Forever Alone.

It's inevitable that Masen wins, of course. That had been the challenge, apparently. If the hacker won, then Masen would let the whole thing go, but if Masen won, then the hacker would have to come to Midnight Sun and meet up and hash out the details of whatever devilish scheme is in Masen's head.

"So, when's this guy coming?"

"Midnight," Masen says, standing up from Peter's desk and circling around back to the kitchen. Oh, look, he's thirsty again. Side effect of being badass? Maybe.

Evidently Peter isn't the only one who is a little impatient. Even Alistair is rapping his fingers against his now-beaten up cast. "That's less than an hour from now," Alistair points out.

"Mm."

"Then he must be close," Emmett deduces.

"Mm."

Peter squints. "Wait, so this hacker is just, like, _conveniently_ hanging around within an hour of us? You don't find that suspicious as fuck?"

Masen levels him with a dry sort of stare and very pointedly shrugs his shoulders.

Peter wants to throttle his stupid pretty-boy neck sometimes. Seriously.

"You know who he is, don't you?" Emmett asks, his eyes widening. "Masen, my dude, don't tell me this _whole time_ you _actually _already knew who this guy was?"

"Coding looks familiar," Masen answers nonchalantly.

And, yeah, that isn't exactly an adequate answer. Who on God's green fucking Earth recognizes _what individual code looks like_? What, does this hacker leave a signature?

Actually, leaving a signature sounds cool as hell. Peter _might_ take a page out of that playbook!

But! That isn't the point!

Peter wags his finger at Masen. "You totally broke the bro code, you wily bastard" he admonishes. "Thou shalt not let thy bro be hacked on purpose to poach said hacker for the express purpose of bettering thine company without telling thy bro about thy bullshit. Amen."

Alistair sighs, long-suffering as he always is at Peter's incredible _wit_.

Emmett, on the other hand, is nodding along, for once being a stand-up bro. "I agree with Pete on this one. If this was part of some grand plan, we should have been told. Or at least _I _should have been told. I don't care about how much Peter suffers."

And there goes all the good-will Peter was filling. He flips Emmett off.

"Didn't know if he'd take the bait," Masen says.

Wow. Just wow. Peter is _bait_. How fuckawesome. Really.

"Well. Okay, fine for this time. But in the future, you should loop us in, okay?"

"Mm."

Peter narrows his eyes. He knows Masen's hum and that one did _not_ sound like an agreement. Jeez. Where's Bella when he really needs her around to reign in the monster?

"This is shady," Peter says. "I'm too salty to be involved in anything shady right now."

Emmett groans. "Would it kill you to just talk like a normal person?"

"I don't know," Peter snipes back. "Would it kill you to not be a dick?"

"I might kill you both if you don't shut up," Alistair warns darkly.

This time - and only this time - Peter listens to him, but it's only because he's thinking about this hacker asshole who Masen has been plotting with - or against - or _whatever_ it is that Masen is doing.

The clock tick-tocks closer and closer to midnight, the most auspicious hour for this most auspicious occasion, and Peter finds himself pacing at the lobby door. There's nobody out on the street because it's dark as shit on a cloudy night, but he has no doubt about this hacker showing up. And sure enough, straight on the dot, the door opens up and in walks -

"Hot Chef?" Peter blurts out.

Hot Chef looks up as he closes the door, eyebrows as angry as ever.

Peter glances all over, taking in the bomber jacket on Hot Chef's shoulders and the deep V of his plain tee and the way his jeans hug his thighs just right, and frowns. "Hey, man. Did you get the order wrong? We didn't call for delivery. Do you even do delivery?"

Hot Chef casts his dark eyes aside, hands in his pockets.

Huh. Hot Chef doesn't even have any food on him. Not a delivery then.

"Oh, I see!" Peter crows victoriously. "You're here to see me! I get it, I get it! One day without this handsome face and you want to see more! Totally understandable. But, dude, it _is_ kind of late and my associates are waiting for some hacker asshole to show up."

Hot Chef stares at him with this unreadable expression and Peter grins.

And then Masen comes up from behind him and says, "Hello, K.O."

"Master Culler," Hot Chef replies gravely.

Peter's jaw just about drops to the goddamn floor, because _wait a fucking second_! What is happening! Hot Chef is - did Hot Chef just say that _he's_ K.O, as in the one from Dawn of Warcraft that has been looking for some poor bastard for, like, three months? _That_ K.O.?

"But, but!" Peter sputters. "But I've never even seen you use a computer!"

Hot Chef - no, K.O. - looks at him and Peter's stomach squirms. He clicks his mouth shut and watches as Masen and K.O. circle each other like sharks, searching for blood in the water or weaknesses or something.

"I'm here," K.O. says finally, his voice a low rumble. "What do you want?"

Masen tilts his head. "You've been hacking into my colleague's computer for a while," Masen says coolly like he's talking about the weather and not _weeks_ of upset for Peter. Ugh. "What do you think I should do about such direct harassment? Will anti-stalking laws be on your side, I wonder?"

Peter flushes to the roots of his fucking hair, his neck heating up like he's on fire, because _what_. Peter isn't being stalked. "I'm not being stalked!" he yelps. He looks at Hot Chef or K.O. or whoever, eyes wide and beseeching. "You're not stalking me, are you? You just, like, suck at communication. I'm cool with it, or at least, like, it would be nice if you didn't fuck with my computer, but I could maybe forgive you if you could keep me stuffed and happy! I wouldn't mind!"

Somewhere in the background, Emmett chokes on his own tongue, and Alistair audibly sighs. Masen silently lifts a brow at Peter. K.O. levels him with one of those trademark heavy stares and it's all Peter can do to laugh nervously, scratching at the back of his head.

K.O. looks at Masen. "What do you want?" he repeats, twice as flat as before.

"Come work with us," Masen offers, almost _nicely_.

"Why?"

"You're talented and useful. It's a waste of your skills to do anything else."

Not swayed by the blunt honesty, K.O. says, "My food truck."

"Keep it."

"Where?"

"Here. Wherever." Masen pauses and surely his lizard brain is calculating something because his next words are an actual fucking concession. "I would only request you for special projects. Interesting things. Challenges."

"Challenges?"

"We want to revolutionize the industry," Masen says. "But, of course, you already knew that."

K.O.'s brows furrow in thought. Inexplicably, he glances at Peter and Peter smiles brightly without even thinking about it. And then K.O. says, "Fine."

That's it. Just. Just _fine_, like he hasn't just basically sold his soul to Masen and his scheming mastermind ways. Which…Should Peter say something about it? He feels like he owes it to the guy to at least _warn_ him about what he's signed up for, because by _God_ does he wish someone had warned him. But, then again, even if K.O. is Hot Chef and can cook up all the food that Peter will gladly eat into a coma, he _did_ still pick on Peter and do that monk prank with a truly astonishing amount of commitment.

And then there's the added layer that Masen apparently _knows_ this guy in some other way. Like, not just from NOMAD, not just from DOW, but also because of the way he codes. Which is _something_ important, Peter thinks, and it ultimately means that Masen will connive a way to get this guy in his books one way or another - and _fuck no_ Peter _will not_ be getting in the way of Masen's plans, not ever.

Plus! Now that Peter knows Hot Chef is K.O., he can't help but want to unravel the whole thing about K.O. hunting that Pettish handle in DOW. Like, it makes him nervous to even think about - and _surely_ it's impossible, right, because it's been years and the handle isn't even the same one - but still, Peter wants to know. Because of reasons.

Masen offers a nod of his hand and the slightest of self-satisfied smiles and promptly turns away, pulling out his phone and tapping at the screen. Probably updating his plans for world domination now that he has another piece on his chessboard or whatever.

Alistair trails his eyes between Masen and K.O. with a certain level of skepticism that Peter appreciates, but Emmett seems ready to welcome a new recruit to the team. "Well, alright!" Emmett says loudly, walking forward with his hand held out. "Welcome to Midnight Sun, uh, K.O. I'm Emmett, CFO and all-around gift, the scowly vampire behind me is Alistair, our head graphic designer, and you obviously already know Pete."

K.O. does not shake Emmett's hand. He does, however, stare darkly at Emmett when Emmett drapes a friendly arm over Peter's shoulders until Emmett clears his throat and steps away. Weird.

Whatever. Peter has more important things to think about. "Listen here, friend," he says to K.O., formerly known as Hot Chef, immediately gaining the guy's full, undivided attention. "I'll forgive you for pranking me, because I too understand the value of a good prank, but _only_ if you promise to keep me filled with some delicious every day!"

"I promise," K.O. says solemnly.

Peter beams.

Behind him, Alistair is griping to Emmett and Masen, who does not seem to be paying any attention, something about _is this is what it's going to be like now_? Peter ignores them all because the promise of food is oh-so-sweet and pretty much guaranteed.

"So," he says, leaning into K.O.'s space, bemused by the way the guy stares back without blinking. "What's your real name, anyway?"

* * *

**A/N: This is update 1 of 4 this weekend. Would LOVE to hear what you think K.O.'s real name is! Peter was feeling super reference-y, so I have a few explanations to include!**

**So, the alternate dimension Peter mentions in the beginning is something physicists discovered the first signs of in June 2020, where they think they have evidence of a parallel alternate reality on the same stream as ours, except it's moving _backwards_ in time, not forward like us. Like Peter, I also would not like to back to high school!**

**Android 17 is the male bionic android from Dragon Ball Z. While _everyone_ knows that Android 18 is better (fight me, her arc was awesome), Android 17 is pretty cool too!**

**PWN is leet speak for "to own" or "to conquer". Leet speak, which was mentioned in the previous chapter, is internet jargon that was predominately used in the early 2000s but is still being used on online gaming platforms. For context, if you are playing a game and you beat someone, you can say that you "pwn" them, or "own" them. Other examples of leet speak include using numbers for letters, such as L8r or l33t sp34k. It's similar to what might be used over text, but is generally seen as a _slightly_ dated way of communicating online. Leet speak, like other languages and code, will continue to evolve.**

**Forever Alone is a meme from the golden age, which is between 2010-2016. I suggest Googling if you don't know what Forever Alone is, because there's no real way to describe the meme, but it _is_ 100% hilarious.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay smart, stay safe, and stay healthy! Wear your masks and advocate for police (and government) accountablity! **

**~Rae**


	45. kiss and fro-yo

**[Instagram]**

(A post with one picture.

There are two girls squeezed in tight to share the somewhat lopsided frame. One of the girls, the one with the round face and artfully disarrayed dark hair, is smiling so wide her eyes are scrunched closed; the other girl, the one with vivid olive green eyes and a healthy dose of freckles cast over her face, is dimpling prettily at the camera. In front of them, just barely in the frame, are two bowls of frozen yogurt that are topped with all kinds of toppings, including bananas, peanut butter sauce, chocolate chips, fudge, fruit, nuts, and toffee.

Both girls are throwing a peace sign to the camera.)

Posted 2 min ago

**aliceseesyou **forgiveness and frozen yogurt

#toppingsgalore #apologies #besties #sistersbeforemisters

**Comments**

byanyothername: well would you look at that? Happy for my bbs

thelittlecygnet: and jelly over the froyo?

byanyothername: well duh, you guys always go without me

clearly_filming_this: FINALLY. Good timing ladies! Now, save me a scoop.

* * *

**A/N: This is update 2 or 4. Does anyone else really want some frozen yogurt or ice cream now? I'm 100% planning on eating an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's and binge watching something later. Speaking of Ben & Jerry, have you guys seen the way those hippies have thrown down with the BLM movement? So cool. We stan ice cream legends. **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe and stay healthy!**

**~Rae**


	46. chapter 21

**[chapter_21]**

During freshman year, Alice had a harder time adjusting to California culture than anyone else in the dorm. Rose is obviously a native, a fast-moving firebrand from the south end of the state who melted into Stanford without a hitch; and both Bella and Leah had the advantage of being part of the laid-back, cool-headed Pacific Northwest, so they had hardly any trouble adjusting to the Bay Area. But Alice? Alice was a Southern girl at heart and she had been out of step for the longest time - not only were the classes harder, more demanding, but the restaurants were different, the foods and drinks were different, and people had an awful habit of looking down on the twang in her speech.

Bella doesn't know if she was the first to notice Alice struggling, but she does know that she was the first to do something about it. "Let's go get ice cream," she'd said, snagging Alice away from the dining hall and out to the convenient shops just outside campus. "Ice cream is everywhere, right? I could do with a taste of home."

Alice hadn't disagreed, but she _did_ put up a token of resistance. "Ice cream will go straight to my hips."

Bella hadn't missed a step, already used to how careful Alice was about food - not that it was a habit that would last, of course. She had merely pulled up Google Maps and said, "Froyo, then. Frozen yogurt is everywhere, too."

That had been the first time Alice and Bella had gone to the little shop boasting 10 flavors of frozen yogurt and over 40 toppings, and from then on it had kind of become their spot. Sometimes Leah and Rose would tag along, but it was really just an Alice-and-Bella thing. Any time one of them was feeling a little homesick or feeling overwhelmed by the reality of college life, they would pop down to the shop for a low-fat, high-sugar treat to lift their spirits.

_Maybe I should have taken Alice here_, Bella reflects. She had been caught up in her own things, but had she really not noticed the first signs of fraying at Alice's edges? Maybe if she had, maybe if they could have shared this treat and let out the steam, maybe then Alice wouldn't have spiraled.

But maybes are in the past. And it's never too late to make things right, as long as everyone is willing to put in the same amount of effort. So, Bella steps into the shop and sees that Alice is already there at their usual table and she doesn't hesitate, not even for a second, to find her seat. It's a little late in the evening, the sun already setting, but all that means is that the shop is relatively empty except for the bored teen scrolling through his phone at the counter.

Bella sits and Alice stares and Bella stares back. Where do they start? Should Bella prompt the conversation, or should she wait for Alice to begin? It seems they both have the same idea, because they speak at the same time.

"I-"

"Did you-"

"Oh-"

"Well, you can-"

"No, no. You go first-"

"Oh, okay. Alright." Alice nods, twisting her fingers together on top of the table. She isn't quite meeting Bella's eye, looking at her cheek or her ear. "Bella, I'm…I'm so sorry. Last time, I said some really terrible things to you, things that aren't true and things I don't really believe. And I'm so, so very sorry. I'm an awful friend."

The thing is this, though: Bella doesn't think Alice is an awful friend. The Alice she knows is sweet and thoughtful and a little naïve; she isn't someone who is quick to anger to one to hold a grudge; she's maybe a bit more permissive than she should be and she can certainly be overbearing, but she also have a good heart. A golden heart, really. Alice isn't an awful friend at all.

But..she _did_ say awful things - things that Bella is still confused about.

"You said I didn't leave enough air in the room," Bella says quietly, trying to catch Alice's gaze. "You said, or, well, implied that being myself is…I don't know. I make you feel inadequate? I don't mean to….

"You don't!" Alice hastens. "Not really! Not usually! And it wasn't even _you_, really, it was my own issue. I'm not, you know, as confident as I like to seem. I feel like a little girl playing dress-up in her mother's clothes a lot of the time, and then there's _you_ and you don't seem to have that problem at all, like you've got the whole world figured out and - And I know, I swear I know that this is something _I _have to get over, because it's unfair to compare myself to you and put you on a pedestal and then be angry when I can't seem to measure up. Really, I promise it's something I'm working on. Because…because my own issues wound up hurting my very good friend and I hate it."

Alice sniffles and Bella blinks back the wetness in her eyes. Alice is as earnest as she always has been, which makes it easier to reach across the table and catch Alice's hands, squeezing them in comfort.

Bella doesn't bother to hide the sheen of her tears or mask the emotion in her voice. Weeks of unresolved hurt is bubbling up and over, a slowly seeping wound on the way to healing. "I forgive you, Alice. Of course, I do. You must have been really hurt, right? I just…Ali, I just don't understand what happened."

"I don't deserve forgiveness," Alice says, lip wobbling.

"It's okay," Bella soothes.

"No, it's not. You should be mad, you should be so angry at me, because it's what I deserve for-"

"It's not up to you to decide if you're forgiven," Bella interrupts gently. She has a brief flickering memory of Sue saying something similar when Bella was much younger. Forgiveness is not for other people to decide and it's not even really for other people. Forgiveness is for the self. Or at least that's what Bella thinks. Holding a grudge about words spoken in anger seems like a pretty big waste of energy to her - so it's easier to forgive and figure out how to do better in the future. Right?

Alice appears to swallow down her protest at this, the guilt still writ plainly across her face.

Bella squeezes her hands again. "I'm here to listen if you want to talk about what happened."

"It's a whole mess," Alice says, casting her eyes down.

"I have time," Bella tells her.

And then Alice unloads the whole story, laying it all out for Bella's perusal. About the Denali internship, which went from suspiciously cushy to downright grueling over the last few weeks, so much so that Alice only finished the internship for the sake of her resume; about a boy named Jasper Whitlock, who Alice had first detested then admired then befriended and who she is now avoiding because, as it turns out, Jasper Whitlock is also Wit Monger, Alice's in-game friend, who had initially only joined DOW to look for Swanning. Bella learns all about how each of these things connects directly to her, especially the fact that the Denali heir, James, seems to have only hired Alice under the mistaken belief that Alice was actually Swansong and who had taken his anger over the subterfuge out on Alice by singling her out for time-consuming tasks. The parts about Jasper also strike Bella, as she finally recalls that a boy with the same name had tried asking her out multiple times during the spring semester. All in all, by the time Alice finishes this topsy-turvy tale, Bella can see _exactly_ where Alice was coming from when she finally reached the end of her rope.

Denali, either the company or James Denali in particular, wanted Swansong, who is Bella.

Wit Monger wanted Swanning, who is Bella.

And Jasper Whitlock also wanted Bella.

Alice winding up in the middle of it due to two cases of mistaken identity had managed to undermine Alice's own sense of self and her self-confidence because it really seemed like it didn't matter what _Alice_ did if everyone was always looking for _Bella_. So. Bella understands. She can't imagine she would have had a happy response either if she had been in Alice's shoes.

Although - the thing about James Denali does make Bella wonder. Swansong is well-known in the NorCal server, so it would make sense if someone recognized the handle. But the way Alice explains it, Bella can't help but think the _only_ reason Alice was hired as a mistaken Swansong is because James Denali knows Swansong in the game. Is it possible that James Denali is someone Bella has played against on DOW? Is it someone she's offended? Maybe. Swansong has offended many would-be challengers by beating them in duels. Could James Denali be one of them? Something about _that_ whole situation feels personal. She can't quite wrap her head around it.

Jasper Whitlock, on the other hand, seems very much like a problem. This is the same boy who didn't seem to understand a gentle - or direct - rejection, the same boy who had several mishaps with Alice, and the same boy who, apparently only recently understood that Bella was not interested. More than anything else, she aches for Alice, who seems to have developed one-sided feelings for Jasper, a boy who can be nice but also has a tendency to speak without thinking. Alice's tender heart is not a good match for someone like that. But then again - Bella doesn't really have any right to judge, although she does hope that Alice treads carefully where Jasper Whitlock is concerned.

By the time Alice has gotten through the last dregs of details, night has truly fallen and they are both red-eyed, holding hands over the table. They've been getting pointed looks from the teenager at the counter for the last half-hour, so they place their orders and pile toppings onto their frozen yogurt and take small bites, letting some silence wash over them. The return of some semblance of normalcy feels almost out of step, their edges not quite lined up, but this is better than it was. Bella can see a light at the end of the tunnel. She feels like smiling, so she does, offering it to Alice who returns the expression warmly.

Something in Bella settles, even as she turns over new worries in the back of her mind.

"Rose said you were staying with Masen," Alice says after two bites, scraping her spoon over the generous toppings on her frozen treat. "How's that going? Or…Should I, I mean, _can_ I even ask that?"

Bella swirls her own spoon around. "It's fine," she answers. "Things are going well, But I'm actually staying with his brother's girlfriend, Esme. Fiancée now, actually."

Alice's eyes widen. "Ohh…"

"Mm-hmm."

Alice clanks the plastic spoon against the paper bowl. "I…should have asked before. Earlier. When you left, I mean. I should have asked where you went."

"It's okay," Bella says, honestly holding no ill-will against that oversight. They were both upset. Bella didn't even tell Leah until after she'd already gotten settled in.

"But it's not," Alice insists. "I mean, like, everything aside, it was late and you're a woman. It wasn't safe!"

"Maybe not," Bella concedes, because that much is true. She doesn't know a single woman who wasn't aware of the dangers that lurk in big cities, especially at night. Bella is fortunate and she knows it. "But…I had Masen. He took care of me. He arranged everything so I would be comfortable and wouldn't feel, you know, pressured."

"He's good, isn't he?"

Bella smiles fondly. "He really is," she says softly.

"And obviously a good kisser," Alice adds, a hesitantly teasing note to her voice.

"Huh?"

Alice's eyes flicker down to Bella's neck - right where -

Bella slaps a hand over her neck, a blush swiftly rising on her cheeks. Alice laughs and Bella huffs, ducking into her bowl of frozen yogurt with a pout.

But even with the embarrassment - it's nice to have Alice back.

* * *

The Missus  
:)

This Is Really Masen  
It went well?

The Missus  
Very!  
I missed her a lot  
Everything that happened  
was just like a pot boiling over  
You know?

This Is Really Masen  
I'm glad you won't be upset anymore  
I didn't like that

The Missus  
Aw! You do care! Lol

This Is Really Masen  
About my wife's emotional  
well-being?  
Of course  
In fact I care about nothing else

The Missus  
(embarrassed emoji)  
I was kidding

This Is Really Masen  
I know  
:)

The Missus  
Anyway!

This Is Really Masen  
Yes?

The Missus  
I have to move back to the dorm  
this weekend  
So…

This Is Really Masen  
Will you need help moving?  
I can make time

The Missus  
No need! Really!  
Alice is helping

This Is Really Masen  
I see  
Let me know if that changes

The Missus  
I will :) thanks

This Is Really Masen  
Always

* * *

"Nice digs," Alice says approvingly as she follows Bella into Esme's apartment Saturday afternoon.

Alice peers around, taking in the vibrancy of the apartment, seemingly entranced by the mash of colors and textures. Bella already knows that this apartment is giving Alice _ideas_ \- already she can imagine the fabric that Alice is going to start hunting down for her clothes.

"It is a pretty nice apartment," Bella agrees. "Here, come on. The room I'm staying in is here." They each have a box in hand because even though she'd been here a little over a month, Bella had managed to accumulate _things_.

She blames Masen, who seems to find some enjoyment in making sure Bella has a souvenir from each of their dates - a Pokemon plushie, movie ticket stubs, a stuffed orca whale, a figurine of the DOW character class Bella plays. He had, at some point, not-so-accidentally left advanced software engineering books, already dog-eared and highlighted and annotated, for her to permanently borrow. She has one of his shirts and two of his hoodies, neither of which she plans on giving back unless asked. These are, of course, only trinkets gifted by Masen; Esme had also done her part, passing along clothes and shoes and books about female empowerment. The point is that although Bella might have left the dorm with her backpack, laptop, and a single suitcase, she will be returning with two boxes full of things that will have to be neatly sorted before Leah returns to the dorm and gets all anal-retentive about organization.

Bella doesn't mind it. She does, however, make sure to comb through Kebi's room and the apartment, looking for anything she might have placed thoughtlessly. All the while, she and Alice chatter about how much of the world the ever-so-mysterious Kebi has already seen, musing about places they might like to go.

"Australia might be fun," Alice says, cheerfully folding up the fashionable clothes Esme has seen fit to give Bella. She, of course, also takes the time to examine each article before packing it away. "This skirt is so cute and totally you. Look at the little pink stars! How darling!"

The skirt is, in fact, very cute, a thing of white and grey wispy layers that floats around her thighs and manages to make Bella's legs look twice as long as normal. Bella has no idea where Esme found it, but it seems like Esme has decided to make sure that Bella's wardrobe is diverse, insisting one article of clothing at a time that it's the _least_ she can do for taking care of Esme's fish. This particular skirt is only one of a dozen other new pieces of clothing collected by Bella's new female role model. At this rate, Bella won't need to buy anything new until winter.

Well. She isn't a huge fan of shopping, anyway. Really, Esme is the one doing Bella a huge favor.

"Aren't all the creatures in Australia dangerous?" Bella wonders, double-checking that the drawers she used are empty. "You know, all the memes about it?"

"Yeah, but…Even the kangaroos?"

Bella shrugs. "Probably."

Alice pouts. "Well, if not Australia, then where?"

"South Korea," Bella says promptly. "Or Japan. France would be cool, obviously, or Brazil or India."

Alice laughs. "Those are all places that have food you like!"

"Is that not a good way to pick a place to travel?" Bella asks rhetorically.

Alice tsks. "You travel by food, I travel by animals. I think probably neither of us should be put in charge of an itinerary."

"You're probably right. Rose can be in charge."

"Not Leah?"

Bella scoffs, shaking her head. "Please. I love my sister, but she would second-guess the decision and micromanage all the fun out of planning. Rose, on the other hand…"

Alice nods. "Rose is our trip advisor. I'll let the group chat know!"

Bella imagines Leah's faux-outrage at this development, laughs at the thought, and then circles back to the bathroom, reasonably sure she'd left behind the shampoo Esme had turned her to. Free of sulfates and loaded with keratin, Bella's hair has never looked so good or felt so soft. Esme, she thinks, is a guru of the feminine mystique. Bella can only hope to learn more from her example, which is why she makes sure to collect all the products Esme had recommended. Bella adds these products to the second box and narrows her eyes in thought. She feels like she's forgetting something else. What could it be? Oh!

Bella picks up the second box and takes it to the living room, where Alice has already gathered the rest of Bella's things into a pile. Alice makes an inquisitive noise when Bella trots into the kitchen, digging around for her new favorite Jiji mug and the box of blueberry tea Bella had come to love. She's in the middle of working these additions into the second box when Esme abruptly enters the apartment, the door cracking loudly against the wall. Bella nearly upturns the entire box, and then she and Alice look at the entryway with wide, startled eyes.

Chest heaving, Esme delivers the brightest, prettiest grin, and says, "Thank _God_ you're still here! I thought I missed you!"

"Esme! Aren't you supposed to be at Carlisle's?"

"He can live without me for a few hours," Esme insists. She has a paper bag in hand, one stamped with a logo from a local home goods store, which she immediately gives to Bella. "I couldn't let you move out by yourself, and anyway, I have something I want to give you. So, here!"

"Esme, really, I can't…"

"I insist."

Bella knows enough by now to understand that when Esme insists on something, Esme usually gets her way. Bella has no real grounds to refuse, so she takes the bag and peers inside to find an electric kettle and an assortment of high-caffeine beverage mixes. Bella is touched. She'd mentioned in passing that it would be nice to have hot drinks in the upcoming colder months and Esme had effortlessly solved this problem for the entire dorm, seemingly without any fuss. "Thank you for this," she says, swept by a tremulous warmth. "And for everything else. I've loved living here."

Esme sweeps her into a hug. "Sweet girl. I loved having you here. You can always come visit, whenever you want. Keep the house key and don't let me or the fish miss you too much."

"I won't," Bella promises.

Satisfied, Esme pulls back and surveys the room. Her eyes fall on Alice and she smiles warmly. "Hello! You must be Alice. I suppose you're helping my Bella move out?" At Alice's hesitant nod, Esme lifts her chin. "Great! That means I'm not late!"

"Late?"

"I have a Lyft waiting downstairs," Esme says proudly. "You two can't take all of this stuff on the bus, can you? Let me take you back to your dorm."

Bella knows better than to argue and, this time, she wouldn't even want to. If it had only been the suitcase and the bags, then taking the bus might have been fine. But with these extra boxes, which are heavier than they look, it would be cumbersome to do anything other than take a car back to campus. And she can't think of a reason to say no in the face of Esme's seamless direction, which has them and all of Bella's stuff tucked away into an idling car within minutes.

During the drive, Alice and Esme get to know each other. They both have an intense appreciation for fashion that allows them to swiftly find common ground, gushing over designers like Vera Wang who are making their collections accessible to everyday people. At this topic, Bella is admittedly in over her head, so she occupies herself with enjoying the easy bond between two of her favorite people. She thinks it means a lot to Alice that Esme, who surely understands the circumstances that allowed Bella to move in with her, is not hostile or openly disapproving. It goes a long way to Alice's own healing.

By the time they get to campus some twenty minutes later, they're all laughing at the tale Esme weaves about one of her college memories - which involves whip cream, a lost key, and one very irate RA. Esme takes one of the boxes, Alice takes another, and Bella shoulders the rest of her luggage as they weave through campus to Roble Hall.

Things are going well, right up until the wheel on Bella's suitcase pops off right in front of one of the science buildings. "Shoot," she hisses, halting in her tracks to stop the suitcase from scraping along the pavement. It's a large suitcase. She could _maybe_ carry it herself if Alice took her laptop bag and her backpack, but then Alice would be too weighed down. Bella has just resigned herself to sore arms in the morning when the suitcase, as if by magic, lifts from the ground.

Bella looks up and gapes.

Ah. Not magic. It's Professor Anne Cullen, who has apparently taken it upon herself to carry Bella's suitcase, even as she greets Esme with a warm level of familiarity. Bella stands by, eyes wide, and darts a glance to Alice, who looks torn between humor and helplessness.

Professor Cullen finishes greeting her son's fiancée and then looks at Bella with a knowing glint in her eye, one that Bella is intimately familiar with. It seems like Masen got some of that keen intelligence from his mother regardless of the fact that they are not related by blood. "Bella Swan, yes?" Professor Cullen asks. "You were in my class last semester."

"Yes, ma'am," Bella replies immediately, trying to wrap her head around the fact that her professor knows her by sight. Is it that strange? Maybe not. But Bella isn't naïve enough to think that Professor Cullen knows _all_ of her students by name and face.

"Your final paper was very impressive," Professor Cullen praises. She has a gentle sort of loveliness that hints at the stunning beauty she must have been in her youth. "My husband and I have heard so much about you from Masen. We've been so busy this summer, but we'll have to arrange something now that you're no longer my student."

"Oh! That's - that's really not necessary, Professor."

"Please, call me Anne."

Bella very much does not think she can call her professor by her first name, but this woman is also her boyfriend's mother and Bella doesn't think the normal rules apply. Esme and Alice seem to find Bella's wordless floundering amusing, even as Bella is stuck nearly dumb by the sudden nerves that are twisting her up.

Bella doesn't really get nervous around strangers. She can always find a way to fall back into a placid smile and polite conversation - but with Anne Cullen, those manners are mysteriously missing, especially when Anne so nonchalantly talks about Bella _officially_ meeting the parents.

Oh, God. She's meeting one of Masen's parents right now. She must be leaving such a bad impression!

"I see you're moving back into the dorms," Anne Cullen observes. "Let me help you."

"Oh, you don't have to!"

"Nonsense," she says. "You're important to Masen, so you're important to me. And it seems like you're having suitcase issues. It's really no problem at all."

"That's very kind of you," Bella manages, and somehow she makes her feet move forward, leading them all back to Roble Hall amid polite chit-chat and light-hearted jokes.

Anne Cullen doesn't come into the dorm with them and neither does Esme. Instead, they take Bella's things right to the door just outside the residency and make their goodbyes. Esme gives Bella - and Alice - one last hug and then Anne Cullen squeezes Bella's hand.

"I'll have Masen set something up," Anne says. "Heaven knows he's so busy with his company, but he'll make time for this. We're long past due for a dinner anyway!"

"Okay."

"I'd better get going. It looks like you have a lot to do. Goodbye, girls!"

Esme wiggles her fingers. "Bye-bye!" she says teasingly before she turns around clicks after Anne Cullen, looping their arms together and saying something along the lines of _So, I was thinking about the wedding_….

Bella watches them leave. "Oh, God," she says weakly. "Did that just happen?"

Alice giggles. "Are you breathing?"

"I am," Bella answers. She turns to Alice, pleading. "Did that just happen? Tell me, did I sound dumb? I sounded dumb, didn't I?"

"You were fine," Alice says kindly. "It was the first time you're meeting one of his parents. Being nervous is fine, right?"

"I guess…"

"They seem like good people. You can make a better impression next time, okay?"

Bella knows, intellectually, that Alice is right. This whole day was a whirlwind of spontaneous happenings that left Bella a little derailed and she can cut herself from slack from not being her most gregarious the first time she speaks with her boyfriend's mother outside of class. It's fine, she knows.

But she also knows, from what little Masen has told her, that the entire Cullen brood is not as kind of Carlisle or Anne - there is one person in the family that Masen is not keen on letting her meet, ever, if he has his way about it. It puts this meeting in a whole other light. What if - and of course this is not likely to happen, but - what if Anne Cullen mentions Bella's awkwardness to Grandfather Cullen and that makes the man put more pressure on Masen? It's an irrational concern, but it's there all the same. What she's heard about Grandfather Cullen does not paint a picture of the kindly patriarchs Bella has known all her life - so naturally, she doesn't want anything to exacerbate Masen's already tense relationship with the man, especially not if she's the cause for escalating tensions.

The next time Bella meets Masen's parents, she needs to be more prepared. She has to do better.

But for right now, she needs to finish moving back into the dorm so she can start prepping for classes, her first of which is on Wednesday. She has a lot to do, things to unpack and a friend to bond with and a cactus that needs some attention.

* * *

**Cardinal Trees ʘcardinaltreesblog  
**Who do we see our reigning beauty queen with now? A mystery woman and our very own Professor Cullen? Are you thinking what we're thinking? #inlaws  
(_Picture Attachment: Professor Cullen walking with Bella Swan, another woman with caramel hair, and another girl. They are all holding boxes or bags or luggage and are obviously in the middle of moving. Professor Cullen looks very casual while Bella Swan looks somewhat embararrassed.)_

* * *

Since this is Bella's first night back in the dorm, Alice _insists_ on running out to get the white sauce chicken-bacon-artichoke pizza they both love in celebration. It's rare that they get to enjoy the triple-cheese goodness of this pizza without Leah or Rose making faces at the roasted artichoke and other vegetables, so Bella doesn't argue. She's very hungry by now - mortification really has a way of whetting her appetite.

Instead, she makes the most of her time while Alice is picking up their order, quickly unpacking and stowing away her things. Putting all her things to rights is an easy task, even when she has to hunt down hangers and make room in the bathroom. She spends a few minutes checking on her cactus, sliding it this way and that to find the best place for it to get sunlight and air. After that, she does a cursory tidying of the common room, more for something to do than any other reason. Alice has kept the space surprisingly clean while Bella has been gone - a sure enough sign that Alice was truly upset.

Bella smiles at the empty rooms, at the mismatched beanbag chairs and the social media station in the corner of the common room and the way all of the bins and cubbies will be back at full capacity in a few days. Soon enough, everyone will be back and she will have to adjust to the new schedule of her classes.

The one thing she can't avoid thinking about, however, is the fact that this new semester is automatically going to mean less time with Masen. She can't very well continue her internship while taking a full course load and keeping her regular Twitch schedule going. Or can she? She might have some free time during the week…

Of course, being able to work in some hours at Midnight Sun is a completely different matter than having near-constant access to Masen. It's going to be different now. She probably won't be able to see him very much - if at all - during the week. And if Midnight Sun does get that Volturi contract, then between Menagerie and DOW2, Masen will have less time than before.

Bella already misses him. It isn't quite sadness but a healthy dose of reality that has her usual enthusiasm for new semesters mellowing. In the past, new semesters have meant another foot forward for her future; now, this new semester feels less like an opening door and more like a closing one.

She knows it's not. She and Masen haven't broken up and they're even in the same city. Bella has no logical reason to be sad. With them both busy, of course they will see each other less. Esme and Carlisle manage when Esme spends half the week in San Francisco. She and Masen can make it work when they're less than half an hour away from each other.

All the same, Bella can feel the distance keenly, so she's very glad when Alice returns with their pizza and grand plans to marathon Queer Eye for the rest of the night. Bella gratefully and happily distracts herself and uses this time to fix the final fissures in her friendship.

Masen isn't going anywhere. She - she likes him way too much to let that happen. They'll be fine.

* * *

This Is Really Masen  
I heard you met my mom

The Missus  
Omg  
Did she tell you?  
Did she hate me?

This Is Really Masen  
She doesn't hate you  
Nobody could

The Missus  
Now is not the time for  
platitudes!

The Is Really Masen  
You have nothing to worry about

The Missus  
I'm not worried

This Is Really Masen  
Okay

The Missus  
Just you wait Masen Cullen  
It'll be your turn to meet the parents  
next and then you'll understand

This Is Really Masen  
Is that so?  
I look forward to it

* * *

By the time Monday rolls around, Bella is nearly ready for the fall semester to begin. Leah is already back in town, but she hasn't even been to the dorms yet because of the Immersion Program, which will be running until Tuesday night; and Rose isn't due to return until Tuesday morning, which is later than she planned but a family obligation held her up at the last minute. All this really means is that Bella and Alice have volunteered to do what they can to get their roommates prepared, too, since it doesn't seem like either of them is going to have time.

Bella tackles the problem with a divide-and-conquer strategy. Bella will buy all the textbooks they all need for their classes and Alice will hunt down the essentials for their stockpile, from snacks to study materials. This works out well because Alice had to go pick up fabric she ordered for a class anyway and Because one of the books Rose's needs isn't at the campus bookstore, but at a second-hand shop not too far from Midnight Sun. So, bright and somewhat early on Monday morning, Bella and Alice head out to each get their tasks complete.

Finding Rose's textbook is like a needle in a haystack. If any of them could afford to buy new books, Bella would probably be able to find everything at the campus bookstore. As it is, scholarships only cover so much and it's cheaper to buy a used book from a second-hand store, anyway. It just so happens that the one book Rose needs isn't at their usual bookstore, but at one that is a little more out of the way. Smartly, Bella had called ahead to get the book reserved, so it's already waiting for her by the time she makes it that far off-campus.

Weighed down by a backpack and two bags of books, Bella navigates her way to Midnight Sun, which is only three or so blocks away. She didn't tell anyone she was coming, because her official last day as an intern had been last week, so she can only be amused by the over-the-top reaction many of them have when she shoulders her way into the office.

"Bella?"

"Our intern has returned!"

"The prodigal intern!"

"What did you bring us - wait, no, please no more textbooks, never again."

"That's…that's a lot of books."

"They're not all mine," Bella says reassuringly.

"Well, thank fuck for that."

"I would die. I would literally die."

There's a hustle of quick greetings and then half of the group falls away to return to their work. There's a faintly terse feeling in the air, probably because that Volturi contract isn't completely on the hook, yet. Bella wonders how the company is going to juggle the demands of two projects. Masen must be - oh. Well, Masen isn't here.

Bella frowns slightly, trying to shove away the nugget of disappointment creeping up on her. Of course, Masen is busy. He didn't know she was going to be here. She'll can find him in a minute or wait around until he emerges from…wherever he is. She just wants to say _hi_ and see him one last time before the fall quarter begins.

"The intern looks blue," Liam observes.

"Hey, Bella. You okay?" Charles checks.

She waves him off. "I'm fine. A little tired." Both true. She casts her eyes around, then does a double-take. "Uh. What is _that_?"

"What's what?"

"That," Bella says, gesturing at one rather glaring eyesore in the room.

"Oh, that," Liam says, bored. "That's your desk."

"That is not my desk," Bella disagrees. Although she'd only ever used the desk for a short time, it had never been so…well, loud. She had kept it neat and clean, free of any distracting artifacts. Now, however, the desk that had once been hers is decorated with multi-colored crepe streamers, no less than three signs declaring _Swansong's Desk_, and a truly dedicated, awful collection of paper swans, stuffed swans, swan feathers, and a swan-shaped pillow. And then there is the yellow-and-black caution tape creating a two-foot barrier around the desk to consider.

Bella tries not to gape, shaking her head slowly.

Liam snorts. "No, it definitely is your desk."

"This desk will always be your desk," Charles agrees.

Peter, evidently sensing an opportunity to cause mischief, darts around the desk, gesturing wildly at all the kitch decoration that has been placed around the computer and on the chair. "See all this? We marked it as yours. This is your desk forever and ever!"

Dimly, Bella is glad Leah is not here to witness this or capture it on camera. She isn't sure what her face is doing, but Liam and Charles and Emmett all do a poor job of muffling their amusement at her expense.

"Yeah," Emmett agrees, struggling to keep a straight face. "Look, Al even made a sign!"

Alistair's sign is decidedly slightly more tasteful than the others. It also says Swanning instead of Swansong. It's still atrocious, however, and Bella is absolutely certain Alistair did it on purpose. He can be such a troll sometimes!

Bella looks to him for an explanation.

Alistair shrugs indifferently. "A sign seemed necessary. This is, after all, your desk isn't it? If we put up signs, then not even Peter's, er, friend will be able to take it."

"Plus we're so proud that we had a lady intern!" Peter crows.

Bella needs to not be looking at or thinking about this desk anymore. She latches onto the closest source of an alternate subject. "Peter's friend?" she asks. Several fingers point at a tall figure dressed in black who is lurking just off to the side, still as a statue and silent as a grave. The intimidating aura and intense expression doesn't throw Bella, however, because this is a face that is familiar to her. "Garrett? What are you doing here?"

Peter blinks at her. "Oh, have you met Garrett?"

"From the food truck? Of course!" Bella turns a friendly smile at the dour-faced man. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Garrett rumbles, looking away but mostly just looking at Peter, as if watching his reaction. "Working here, now. And you?"

"Oh, you know," Bella says breezily. "Same as always."

Garrett bobs his head.

"Wait!" Emmett says loudly. "Wait just a damn minute!"

Bella looks at him in askance.

Emmett huffs. "So far only Peter has gotten away with calling him by his actual name! The rest of us get murder eyes and three degrees of the cold shoulder. And like, I get it for Peter, but - But why do you get to call him Garrett?"

Bella's brow wrinkles as she looks between Garrett and Emmett. "Well, what do you call him then?"

Alistair is the one who answers. "K.O."

Bella blinks. That name sounds familiar… "As in that player from DOW?"

"Uh-huh!" Peter confirms. He sounds abnormally happy to know this fact and share it with whoever cares to listen.

Bella looks at Garrett with amazement. What a small world it is after all. "Oh, wow!" she says brightly. "You're really good! Well, since you're here in person, can I ask you about that one maneuver you do, with the double-flip and the weapon's draw?"

"Of course," Garrett agrees quietly. "What about it?"

"Well, do you-"

"That's it?" Emmett demands.

Bella makes a noise of confusion.

Emmett stutters. "Just! You just. And he. Polite. I can't…"

"Emmett exe is experiencing a malfunction," Peter chortles.

"I'll kill you," Emmett promises, only to blanch and rapidly backtrack, very much not looking at either Peter or Garrett. Not that Bella blames him. It's not like Garrett really _did_ anything, but the room got several degrees colder the second Emmett got testy with Peter. _Friends_, indeed. "Uh, I'll only think about killing you, obviously. Or just maiming. No actual injury involved!"

Peter seems to be oblivious to the silent threatening exchange, the whole thing going over his head. "Oh, what, are you scared?" he taunts.

"Yes," Emmett says emphatically.

"The dude is scary," Charles agrees. "No offense."

"You are rather intimidating," Alistair adds.

Garrett shrugs.

"Nah," Peter insists. "It's just the eyebrows. He's the nicest guy around! Keeps me totally satisfied."

Bella, who unlike Peter is decidedly _not_ blind to the implication behind those words, feels herself blushing. Peter might not seem to understand how that sounded, but everyone, including Garrett, did because Garrett is now staring at Peter with heavy eyes, practically drinking him in. It's just this side of polite for public, honestly. That kind of look should be illegal.

Does Peter _really_ not see it? Apparently not. Poor Garrett.

"And on that note," Bella says, cutting swiftly into the awkward. "Has anyone seen Masen?"

Emmett looks relieved for a change of topic, and he isn't the only one. "He went upstairs just before you came," he says.

"Thank you," Bella tells him sincerely, and then high-tails it upstairs.

The door to Masen's loft is as open as ever and from the stairs she can see the way he digs through one of the drawers by the couch, clearly looking for something. She gently places the burden of books down and tip-toes behind him.

"What are you looking for?" she whispers.

Masen doesn't have the decency to flinch in surprise. He cranes his neck back, unimpressed. "Spare ear buds."

Bella smiles. "Junk drawer in the kitchen," she tells him.

Masen furrows his brow, asking a silent question that she hears anyway.

"You said they were such poor quality that they belonged with the rest of the junk," she reminds him. It had only been two weeks ago and it had been the first time she had ever seen Masen truly irked by anything. He had high standards for his electronics. "You kept them anyway, just in case your current ones broke."

Masen sighs. "They have."

Her smile grows at his moderately irritated resignation. "Will you be able to cope?"

Masen closes the drawer and stands, turning around to reel Bella in closer, his arms looped around her lower back. "I'll manage," he says softly. "It's much harder to cope with not seeing you every day."

Bella flushes, bites her lip, then turns her face up to his, letting the mixture of _wanting_ and _missing_ wash over her face. "I'll come around often," she says. "I won't let you miss me too much."

Masen cradles her jaw, adjusting the angle so he can duck down for an easier kiss. He kisses her with a languid ardor, sipping at her lips unhurriedly, pulling away just enough to whisper words against her tingling mouth. "Mark your words."

Bella does, and then she loses herself in the rest of the kisses he gives her.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea**

Thorny  
Well thank fuck you two  
kissed and made up now  
i need some peace

Sleep Talker  
What did your cousin do this time?

Thorny  
He's an idiot  
It doesn't even matter what he did  
at this point  
I swear I'm adopted  
or disowning Royce  
Both

Paparazzi  
Families are like that

Short Cake  
Speaking of kissing!  
Don't forget to look at  
Bella's neck!

Paparazzi  
What

Sleep Talker  
Alice no!

Thorny  
Are we talking about a hickey  
How big is it

Short Cake  
Silver dollar

Thorny  
Hot damn

Sleep Talker  
Omg

Paparazzi  
You've been defiled!  
I don't like this boyfriend!  
He takes too many liberties

Short Cake  
You sound like my grandpa

Thorny  
LOL  
Well we all know Lee Lee  
is really a grumpy old man

Paparazzi  
I'm defending my sister's honor  
Or what's left of it!

Sleep Talker  
It's not that big of a deal!

Thorny  
Ignore her  
Spill the damn tea  
How was it?

Sleep Talker  
It was just kissing!

Thorny  
Nothing that ends with a  
hickey is just kissing  
There was some petting involved

Paparazzi  
I don't want to hear this  
I can't hear this  
If I get pissed, then Seth will  
want to know why and then  
our parents will know

Sleep Talker  
Please don't tell Dad

Paparazzi  
Ha!  
Maybe I should!  
That'll keep you in line!

Thorny  
Not if Masen's any good it won't

Short Cake  
He seems like a good bf  
I don't see the problem

Sleep Talker  
Thank you!  
Leah just chill

Paparazzi  
You better be wearing a scarf  
when i get back or so help me  
I will hunt that pretty boy down

Thorny  
And what?  
What will you do?

Sleep Talker  
I'm also curious  
And worried

Paparazzi  
Obviously I'm going to  
make him put a ring on it

Short Cake  
Beyonce would approve  
(Gif Attachment: Beyonce's  
iconic Single Ladies music video)

Sleep Talker  
I think it's a little early  
to be talking about  
marriage!

Short Cake  
What are you talking about?  
You've already met the parents!

Paparazzi  
WHAT

Thorny  
Our little Bella is growing  
up so fast!

Sleep Talker  
For the love of god

* * *

**A/N: This is update 3 of 4. Lots of things happening this chapter! We're about to move into another plot arc, so stay seated and keep your arms inside the vehicle at all times! Also, from this point forward, pay _very close attention_ to the time stamps on all YouTube chapters - I'm going to start doing something different! And kudos to anyone who guessed Garrett - it's very amusing to me that the only ones he allows to use his name are Peter (obviously) and Bella, who he very probably views as the only other normal person in any given room. **

**As always, be brutally honest! I can take it! Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay smart. Oh, and by the way, #allcountriesmatter, don't they? Nobody wants to hear my actual opinion about this holiday, I'm sure. But just know that I, along with many other people who have anxiety or other mental disorders such as PTSD, are _not_ huge fans of the crackle-pop of those ridiculous fireworks. If you're watching a display tonight, wear a mask. If you have animals, give them plenty of love!**

**~Rae**


	47. the tale of the fuck up

**[the tale of the fuck-up]**

Jasper knows he fucked up. God, does he _know_ he fucked up. He hadn't meant to - but he had, and he had done so royally. He deserves an ass-whooping.

He hadn't -

How can he reconcile it? He'd fixated on Bella Swan, he knows, and that was dumb, which he also knows. He'd seen a pretty girl and hadn't had much else in his brain about it, and that had made him blind. Maybe that kind of single-minded focus is good for studying, but it isn't anything that will serve him well anywhere else in life.

The fact that he'd found Foresight in Dawn of Warcraft, the fact that he'd enjoyed spending time with her and getting to know her had been something he'd promptly forgotten about in the heat of a single stupid moment. And then he'd doubled the injury by blowing up at the girl who was actually Foresight in real life - something he shouldn't have done and something she didn't deserve.

He can't close his eyes without thinking of the way Alice Brandon's pretty face had crumpled right in front of him. He aches, feels almost nauseous about it.

He'd fucked up. He'd offended - hurt the feelings of - a girl who was his friend both online and offline. And he'd done it for no other reason than he wasn't thinking about the words coming out of his fool mouth or who he was talking to.

Because maybe it wasn't obvious, but maybe he also should have known. There's no difference between the Alice he knows in real life and the Foresight he knows online. Both are kind and honest, almost to a fault, and kind of thoughtless, but cheerful and positive all the same. Both are the kind of girl Jasper's grandfather would want him to bring home -

And the awful thing about it is that, before he'd fucked it all up, Jasper _had_ been thinking about Alice - Alice specifically - in those terms. He doesn't know when it happened, but he does know that he started to look forward to their shared class and that he wanted to listen to her ramble on and that he thinks she might have the prettiest everything, twice as pretty as Bella Swan, even.

Jasper likes this girl.

Jasper also knows that he broke this girl's heart.

How can he make up for it? _Sorry, Alice, my brain finally took control back from my dick, but my mouth hadn't caught up yet so I said things I didn't really mean because, actually, I've been liking you lately and I had almost forgotten about Bella Swan entirely until I saw that stupid blog post._ Somehow, he doesn't think that explanation is going to fly, and he wouldn't want to use it anyway. It's a cop-out.

He fucked up. He said what he said. He can't take it back. But - but he would like to apologize.

The problem is that Alice Brandon is hard to pin down when she doesn't want to be found. Oh, sure, he sees in their last few classes, but she's in and out the door, twice as fast as Jasper can ever hope to be, and even if he races out of the lecture hall after her, she disappears in a flash. He doesn't know where she goes. He does know, however, that she looks wan and sallow and _sad_ during their last few classes. He thinks maybe she's lost weight or she's not sleeping or _something_ is wrong - and the guilt nearly swallows him whole, thinking and knowing that he's probably caused a significant portion of that sadness.

He fucked up - just, _so badly_.

At one point, right before finals, Jasper grows desperate and briefly considers hunting Bella Swan down instead, and then asking for her help to just get even a _chance_ of talking to Alice. But, no. That's not the right way to go about it, either.

So he perseveres because if there's anything his dumb ass is good at, it's tenacity. Stanford might be a big campus, but Alice is only one girl and he knows he'll find her and talk to her eventually.

And he's right.

Right before the start of the new semester, Jasper is heading off campus to go to an office supply store that's cheaper than the campus store, and he just so happens to come across Alice Brandon struggling with a bolt of fabric and two bulging bags just outside the western campus entrance.

Jasper doesn't even think about it. He crosses the sidewalk and swoops the bolt of fabric right out of her arms.

Alice blinks up at him, stunned, and then cycles through a series of emotions that settles somewhere between annoyed and angry.

"Let me carry this for you," Jasper says quickly. "Please."

Alice turns her nose up at him. "No. Give it back and go away."

"It's too much for you by yourself," he argues.

"I don't want _your_ help!"

That stings. He deserves it. "Please," he tries again.

Alice frowns up at him, face all scrunched in consternation, and huffs. "Fine. It's the least you can do, I guess."

It really is. It's the _literal_ least Jasper could do to make up for how badly he's fucked up and he's glad to do it, really, because this here is an opportunity. Alice leads the way and Jasper trails along by her side. "I'm sorry," he starts. "About last time. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I didn't-"

"You know, I understand Bella's appeal," Alice cuts in, somehow both brisk and thoughtful. She doesn't look at him, like she can't stand the sight of him, and that stings, too. "She's beautiful and humble. She's perfect in almost every way, so I can understand her appeal. But Bella is one of my best friends."

"I know," Jasper says quietly. He knows that, now. It only makes him feel more blind. All this time looking at Bella and he'd completely missed Alice. It's shameful.

"I have no interest in competing against her for anything because she's as close to me as my own sister," Alice continues, speaking more firmly than he's ever heard. "But because of you, I was jealous of her and I held a grudge that she didn't deserve. I hurt her because of _you_."

A tiny ember of hope sparks inside - because, well, because if Alice was jealous of Bella, then doesn't that mean she likes him? But he knows - _he knows_ \- that it's not appropriate to be happy about this. It's not a good thing, even though it's kind of a good sign.

"I don't want to have envy in my heart because of something like this," Alice says. "You like someone I love, and that's fine. Apology accepted, but I really don't want to see you ag-"

"Wait!" Jasper says, heart thumping. He can already hear the end of that sentence and he doesn't want the words to actually be spoken. Not now. Not when he's finally found an opportunity to apologize and make things right. He physically stops in his tracks and waits, heart aching, for Alice to do the same. "Wait. Before you finish, I have something to say. Yes, I admit I was originally playing the game to find Swanning, but I never did. I gave up after the first few weeks playing with you - playing with Foresight - because I was having fun. I liked talking to you in class and I liked being with you in the game.

"And when I found out Bella had a boyfriend…I won't lie, I was initially disappointed," Jasper confesses ruefully. "But I wasn't as upset as I thought I would be. I had a crush on a pretty girl, but _only_ because she was pretty, and -"

"That's pretty shallow!" Alice interrupts hotly. "Bella is way more than a pretty face!"

Privately, Jasper isn't sure this is true. He doesn't really know Bella and he honestly doesn't have a desire to know her, not anymore. He probably hasn't wanted to know her for months, he just…hadn't realized it, because he's an idiot.

"Can I finish?" Jasper asks. "The rest of what I have to say is important."

Alice crosses her arms and looks away. "Go on."

Jasper steels his courage, feeling very young and very foolish. "After it all happened, after you stormed out of class…I realized that I was more upset about you leaving than I was about Bella Swan and Masen Cullen. And when Foresight disappeared, too…Alice, do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"No," she says uncharitably. "You're a jumbled mess."

He deserves that.

He forges on anyway. "You make me a jumbled mess," he tells her, and then at her look of shock, he continues earnestly. "Alice. I like you and I've liked you for a while. I've liked playing with Foresight. I've liked failing those quests with you and trying again. I've also liked talking to you in class and saving your seat and sharing my notes. I like how quick you are to laugh and smile. You…you have the prettiest smile. I like how creative you are and the crazy way you dress-"

"I don't dress crazy," she cuts in, narrowing her eyes at him in challenge.

Jasper isn't discouraged, because she hasn't told him to stop his rambling confession. He continues. "I like everything about you. I like you so much I'm stupid with it, and as you so kindly pointed out, I'm already slow to begin with. But even if I'm clumsy with my feelings, I want to be honest with them, so that's why I'm here, telling you plainly and hoping you'll hear me. I _like _you, Alice Brandon."

Alice breathes out and looks away. "Are you done?"

She…doesn't sound pleased. Jasper pretends that doesn't gut him.

"Yes. Do you believe me?" he pleads. "Can you forgive me for being so damn blind?"

Alice is real quiet for a long moment, her eyes falling on the bolt of fabric in his arms. "I don't know," she says haltingly. "It's all…really raw right now. I think I need time."

"I have all the time in the world to wait for you," he says plainly, meaning every word of it and knowing that it's not really enough, not now, not yet.

Alice daintily clears her throat. "I should go," she says and takes the fabric from him. She turns away without meeting his eyes and Jasper feels like a complete failure - not just as a man, but as a friend.

"Wait!" he calls, and Alice does, her feet halting her departure. "Can, uh, can I still text you? It's - it's fine if you don't want me to, or if you don't want to reply…"

Alice is quiet.

"I've just missed talking to you," he finishes quietly. He doesn't add that not talking to Alice is like missing a limb, but he thinks she can hear it all the same. He hopes she can.

"You can text me," she says.

"Thank you," Jasper says emphatically, breathing just a little easier. That's a good sign, right? It must be. Seeing that she is starting to leave again, he calls out, "Wait! Don't you want me to - I mean, let me carry those back for you!"

"I think it's best if I do it myself," Alice tells him, turning just enough to glance at him over her shoulder, rooting him in place. "Goodbye, Jasper."

"Bye, Alice," he says, a beat too late and a shade too quiet. He watches her slender back disappear into the crowd and tries to feel like he isn't just letting his heart walk away from him. But.

Well. At least he apologized. At least she seemed to listen. At least she knows how he feels, as plainly and openly as he can tell her.

Jasper lets himself bask in that tiny ember of hope because it's all he has left.

He prays it's enough.

And it seems like maybe that little bit of hope is enough because when he texts her later, she actually responds.

Jasper  
Did you get home safe?

Alice  
Yes  
Thank you for helping me

Jasper  
Thank you for replying  
I'll give you some space now

Jasper watches as a text bubble appears and disappears under Alice's name for several minutes. Eventually, the ellipses disappear completely without any message following. But he takes it as some encouragement that she at least _thought_ about replying one last time.

He lets that thought carry him through.

Little does he know that, somewhere across campus, Alice Brandon has once again changed his contact name - and now he is no longer Jerkface, but once again Jasper. And that, more than anything, is a sign of good changes to come.

* * *

**A/N: Update 4 of 4. Ahhh! Arc 3 is now finished and we're moving into Arc 4! Already this story is several times longer than I originally planned, so as of yet, I _do not know_ where this puts the endgame, other than we are inevitably looming closer. But there are a few plots that need to be tied up, so the story is far from over!**

**Anyway! Jasper apologized. His head is now officially out of his ass. And it looks like both Alice and Jasper did a lot of growing. Nothing like a monumental mistake to teach a lesson, right?**

As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, and stay aware. Now is not the time to let your guard drop about anything! Wear your mask and keep moving forward. Be part of the solution, because now more than ever we need a cohesive willingness in society to do the right thing, even if the right thing is hard or inconvenient or shakes our world views. Help each other learn - and be open to learning. Remember that forming new opinions based on additional information is a sign of intelligence and maturity. And for the love of whatever higher power you believe in, please stop thinking that issues of moral and social justice are political - they aren't.

**I'm about to rant. Feel free to skip over if you are incapable of seeing different points of view.**

Political things are issues like _how much should we tax people_, not _do these people deserve to be treated with equity and equality_. Don't lose sight of the fact that we are _all_ human and that we are _all_ entitled to the same freedoms, from access to healthcare and the ability to make choices about our own bodies, to the right to marry and adopt children, to the right to legally express our gender orientation without discrimination, to be able to walk around without fear of being targeted for our religious beliefs or skin color. I don't have the patience for anyone who thinks that Christianity is being oppressed by the current progression of social liberties in our country, because honestly religion doesn't belong in politics _period_ and it's grossly hypocritical that those who use religion in politics are, in fact, the most blasphemous of all - and those who support them are, in my experience, _very_ un-Christ like. By the same token, my eyes cannot roll further back in my head to hear about how Blue Lives Matter. Of course, the lives of our law enforcement matter, but that doesn't give them a free pass to use racial profiling and deadly force when it isn't necessary, because that's equivalent to an abusive partner blaming the victim for being in the same room. The police aren't under attack. There is, in fact, a difference between saying _we should hold the police accountable for behavior that is illegal_ and saying _down with the pigs_. Accountability is the point. The fact that police budgets are disgustingly inflated and perpetuate a cycle of socio-economic imbalance when _really_ many of those funds should be used for the basic social welfare programs our taxes are supposed to pay for is the point. The bottom line is that change in all things is important. We should strive for change because we should, as a country that claims to be the greatest, strive to be _better_. And the truth is that our country is only great when we are all equal. You can assess the greatness of a country based on how its poorest and marginalized people are treated - and right now, we are missing the mark. So, yeah, I want things to be better and I want to use whatever platform I have to spread that message. And I will, regardless of who it offends because the time for politeness and letting people keep this dysfunctional status quo is over. And as has been pointed out to me previously, the _majority_ of my stories have underlying themes that are "political", so if my views are any surprise to anyone, I'm genuinely shocked.

**Rant over. Peace out.**

**~Rae**


	48. swan is a sleep talker

**[YouTube Video]**

Swan Is A Sleep Talker**ClarityIsClear  
**138k Views / Posted 6 years ago

(The video starts with a fully black screen. Then there is a flare of yellow-white light and a face is suddenly ghoulishly illuminated, a flashlight held right beneath the chin of a pretty bronze-skinned girl. The angle of the light gives the illusions of dark circles beneath her eyes, her mouth a flat, displeased line.

"Leah Clearwater here," she says tiredly. "It's three in the morning and _I_ am _suffering_."

There is a shuffle, a rustle of clothing, and the camera shakes as Leah seems to shift on what appears to be a bed. The faint greenish glow of stick-on wall stars lurks over her shoulder. Further off, just barely out of reach of the camera's microphone, there is a low murmur and Leah huffs, visibly annoyed.

"Did you hear that? You heard that, right?" she demands, only just moderating the volume of her voice. "Do any of you understand what's happening here? No? Okay, I'll tell you. Here it is. My subject, the illustrious Bella Swan, my soon-to-be-sister in, like, six months, and my brand new roommate is a sleep talker. That's right. She talks in her sleep. And not just, like, a random word here or there. _Oh no_, Bella Swan is truly outstanding in everyway. She talks in complete sentences and every word is genuinely insane. Here, let me just -"

Leah shifts again, the flashlight bobbing as the camera obviously shifts to face in a different directly, quickly followed by a beam of weak light. From the vantage point of the top bunk where Leah is, views can see the light point to where there is a lump in the lower bunk partially buried by pillows and a wadded duvet.

Viewers are right to make the conclusion that the lump is Bella Swan.

"..why are the crickets taking the radish plane? They won't let the potatoes spring the chickens. They can't fly south yet…"

"See? Do you _see_ what I'm dealing with?" Leah hisses. "What is she dreaming? Crickets flying planes? Are potatoes breaking chickens out of jail? What the hell is going on?"

"No, no lemur…No, you can't say that, Lee Lee would be s'mad…"

"Did I mention," Leah starts, turning the camera back to face her just in time for the flashlight to catch the roll of her eyes. "That I seem to be the subject of many of these dreams? What do I have to do with lemurs? Ugh. At least it's better than snails, which is apparently what she associates Seth with…"

There's another far-off murmur and Leah gives the camera a deadpan stare.

"I feel like I should have known this, but either I was a better sleeper when I was a kid or I repressed all the memories," Leah despairs. "And now I'm stuck with it. Who talks this much in their sleep? She doesn't even talk this much during the day!"

Another murmur and Leah rolls her eyes.

"She should be part of a sleep study or something," Leah says. Shaking her head, she adds, "I am recording this for evidence so she can know how much I suffer. It's not even the talking. The talking I can ignore. It's the _questions_ I have. Why the fixation on root vegetables? Where are they going? Why does it all sound suspicious? I have to know but I can't know, because Bella never knows what I'm talking about in the morning, and so I'm just left like this, wondering and needing to know!"

Off camera, viewers think they can hear something about _carrot rebellion_ and _turtleducks_. Leah gives a long-suffering sigh.

"When I said I wanted an interesting subject to videograph, I meant interesting like _does cool things_, not science-experiment interesting. But," she says tiredly. "Beggars can't be choosers. Maybe I'll get used to it…"

The video fades to black, and then is replaced with a zoomed-in view of Bella Swan, staring up at the camera with bleary eyes in the morning sunlight, obviously very confused.

"Lee Lee?" she mumbles.

"Good morning, Sleep Talker," Leah says from behind the camera.

Bella frowns, rubbing at her eye. She doesn't look like she has any intention of moving, completely unbothered by the camera shoved in her face. It doesn't even seem to register.

"Huh?"

Leah clucks her tongue. "I know, I know. You're very useless in the morning," Leah tells her, and Bella kind of grunts, maybe in acknowledgment, maybe in agreement. "But it's time to get up, Sleep Talker."

"Uh-huh."

"My mom is making those ridiculous pancakes you like so much," Leah says. "The ones with all the berries."

"'Kay."

Bella doesn't move, her green eyes dipping closed.

"Hey, Sleep Talker? Tell me, do you…particularly like root vegetables? Radishes and potatoes?"

Bella's brow crinkles.

"What about lemurs? Crickets? Turtles or ducks? Are these your favorite animals?"

Bella's eyes crack open. "Sloths," she says, and then proceeds to roll over, pulling the duvet over her head.

Leah snorts. "Yeah, I can see why you'd like sloths."

Bella mumbles something beneath the covers, then promptly falls both silent and still. Leah, meanwhile, turns the camera around, her expression seeming to say _See? What did I tell you_?

"Send good vibes to me," Leah tells the viewers. "With time, I think I'll become immune to this sleep-talking nonsense. Until then, subscribe to my channel for more of the Swan's shenanigans."

The video ends.)

**Comments**

Doink  
I feel like the crickets have stolen the radish plane?

thelittlecygnet  
I can't believe you actually posted this

ClarityIsClear  
I told you I would!

Mnewton  
Nice bed. but it looks lonely hehe

PaulyHatesTheCracker  
Lee Lee the Lemur, I like it

ClarityIsClear  
I will kick you Paul and I will enjoy it

**View More Comments**

* * *

**A/N: Now we know exactly why Bella is called Sleep Talker in the group chat! Note the time stamp on this video! This is update 1 of 2 this week.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and wear your mask. And I mean that - wear the damn mask.**

All week I have been in a series of internet arguments with people in my state who do not want to comply with our mask mandate. I've heard all kinds of reasons! "The masks don't work" "You're brainwashed by the media" "Why should I sacrifice my freedom?" "I won't live in a communist country!" "If masks worked then why aren't we opening the economy yet?" "Listen to the medical scientists, this virus isn't even a big deal!" and the like. And every time I read any of this bloviated, ignorant nonsense, I can feel my blood pressure skyrocketing. Because here's the thing: the masks do work to protect OTHERS from our viral loads, which are transported in our respiratory droplets. As a simple matter of logic, if EVERYONE is wearing a mask in public, then EVERYONE is protected from viral loads that are not their own. And when everyone is protected, then we can slow - or even stop transmission, as shown by actual developed nations such as Japan, South Korea, and New Zealand, among others - where mask wearing and taking the virus seriously are the norm.

We cannot not wear masks and expect everything to go back to normal. We can't wear masks and then expect to get herd immunity either - a new study has been released that found only about 5% of people who have had the virus in Italy, one of the hardest-hit countries per capita, formed long-lasting antibodies. What this means is that not everyone who is sick will form antibodies to the virus, or if they do, not all of those antibodies will be permanent. Research suggests that the durability of the antibodies is directly related to the severity of the illness; those who have had mild cases, with very few symptoms, don't seem to build antibodies that last longer than 2 weeks, whereas those who are severely ill, usually those who are hospitalized or have many symptoms, have a better chance of forming long-lasting antibodies. So the entire theory of herd immunity for this virus is complete bullshit, and that means waiting for a vaccine is the only avenue for getting back to normal life.

But what do we do during the meantime? Wear our masks like responsible members of society who care about the health of the people around us. In America, I feel like this selfless concept is completely beyond right-wing leaning individuals, who (as psychological studies on personality traits and values of voters indicate) tend to have higher rates of narcissism and neuroticism and conformity, and lower rates of openness and conscientiousness. In other words, right-wing voters are inherently selfish and tend to only care about themselves, not the world at large (which is of course in-line with the fact that they don't care about climate change or why the GOP doesn't want taxes to fund social welfare programs as a whole, especially those related to poverty, homelessness, and hunger). Seeing these anti-maskers in action, many of them who are also anti-vaxxers, is a great snapshot to how these people think. I find it all very disturbing, both from a psychological perspective and as a member of the world.

And they're so passionate about what they believe, even when it's wrong! I can't tell you how many times I've been told to "do my own research", which I do, from neutral non-partisan scientific sources, often the actual studies themselves when available. I understand what I'm reading, or I can find a source that helps me understand. When I ask these anti-maskers to provide their sources, they very suspiciously do not. Why? I can only assume it's because it doesn't exist. They say don't trust the CDC or WHO. Well, anti-masker, who am I supposed to trust, then? If you can't tell me, then why should I listen to you? Another one I hear a lot is how masks aren't effective at all, which simply isn't true. Again, because anti-maskers are inherently selfish, they want to hear that masks will 100% protect them from the virus - they do not want to hear that masks protect OTHERS from THEM, and they largely don't seem to understand the idea that if everyone is doing their part, then everyone is protected.

If you personally aren't sure about the efficacy of masks, then I will point you to Bill Nye's most recent experiment. In this experiment, Bill Nye has a candle, which he attempts to blow out with various face coverings; a scarf over the face blows the candle out, a N95 mask does not even move the flame, and both a two-ply reusable cloth mask and your basic surgical mask prevent air from blowing out the candle almost as well as the N95. What does this tell us? Well, we know that our respiratory droplets - which transmit the virus - are in the air we breathe (see: that viral post of someone breathing in cold air to illustrate), so if we want to test if a mask can contain our viral loads to our own person, then all we have to do is don a mask and try to blow out a candle. I tested this this morning with the masks I have and it stands up. Try it yourself. Try to blow very very hard. If you're using an adequate mask, then the candle won't even flicker and you can know that your mask will protect the people around you.

And yet, by the reckoning of anti-maskers, the idea of protecting others is something that fills them with distaste. I can only assume it's because they're selfish. And then, of course, there is the unimpeachable evidence, over and over again, of anti-maskers who don't wear masks in public because of their "freedom", circulate public places, wind up getting sick, and then die from the virus - such as Robert Rose III, who is now a viral illustration of what that story looks like in real-time. It's tragic. It's tragic because people won't do the one simple thing they can do, and not only are they increasing their own chances of dying, but they are actively spreading the virus to the people around them. So not only is the act in itself suicidal, it's also damningly selfish - and it makes me very tired. "If you see me in public, just don't come near me!" they say, to which I counter, if I see you in public, I won't be coming near you, and I hope you get barred from using any of the stores or services you are trying to use without wearing a mask. Even better, I propose this question: if you knowingly do not wear a mask and end up getting sick, do you deserve medical treatment? Especially when our hospitals are at capacity and our medical professionals are exhausted and risking their own lives trying to save people? If you don't care enough about your own life or the lives of people around you to wear a mask in public, then why should you get life saving treatment? We should prioritize the people you got sick, not you. They need the help. You already made your choice the moment you decided to not wear a mask.

That's where I am at this point. Like I said, it's been a week - and the more anti-maskers I talk to, the more I believe that, while I think they should do their part as members of civil society, they also aren't worth the effort. And I'm a humanist, so for me to get to that place? It says a lot.

**Anway! Rant over. Look for the next update very soon! And please, please wear your masks. **

**~Rae**


	49. chapter 22

**[chapter_22]**

Tuesday is a whirlwind of activity as Rose and Leah move back into the dorm. They wind up arriving within an hour of each other and spend the entire time bickering - Leah insisting Rose unpack properly and Rose insisting that Leah should mind her own business. Alice tries to mediate, but all she manages to accomplish is a frowning observation at the number of all-black ensembles Leah brought back from Washington, which is less than helpful.

Bella stands back and basks in it all, feeling full in her heart and unable to keep the smile off her face. She's missed this - she's missed _them_. It's beyond great that they've been reunited. Bella contents herself in helping where she can, letting this sense of normalcy fall back into place.

"You know what I missed?" Leah asks the room, collapsing onto one of the bean bag chairs after everything has been put away to her satisfaction. She lolls her head toward Bella lazily. "I actually missed your sleep talking."

"You did not," Bella disagrees with a smile.

Leah lifts her brows. "I did! It's like sleeping with the TV on by now. I had the _hardest_ time falling asleep. I always do without your nonsense jabber."

Rose shakes her head as she passes by, her hands full of toiletries to be sorted into her bathroom cubby. "What are you talking about? You always complain about it."

"Fondly," Leah insists. "I complain about it _fondly_."

Bella moves to lay across another beanbag. She lightly kicks at Leah's foot. "You shouldn't joke. Now I'll probably keep you up all night," she says.

"Oh, please," Leah scoffs. "Like you're going to be any worse than Seth, gaming and trash-talking all night. Can I just say how much I prefer your silent gaming?"

Bella rolls her eyes.

Alice breezes back into the common room, tucking herself right by Bella's knee. Bella pets at her smooth hair, catching Leah's inquisitive eye; Bella lifts a brow; Leah widens her eyes; Bella shrugs; Leah scoffs.

"So, how was the Immersion Program?" Alice asks eagerly. "Did you have fun?"

Leah looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "It was interesting. Lots of different tribes from all over the country. I had a _really_ interesting conversation with this one freshman from Navajo nation." Leah pauses. "I don't remember being half as doe-eyed as these freshmen."

"Leah, you've never been doe-eyed a day in your life," Bella tells her.

"…You have a point."

"What I want to know about," Rose says as she comes out of the bathroom, crossing over to sit at one of the desks. "Is this PBS thing. When do we get to see it?"

Leah makes a face. It's her stressed-face, mouth pulled back into a grimace, eyes tight. "Ugh, don't remind me. Old Quill is such a con-man, I swear."

Bella laughs and answers Rose's question. "Apparently, it's supposed to be airing sometime in October," she says. "She gets a primetime slot and everything."

"How do you know that?" Leah demands.

Bella blinks. "Obviously, I checked online. Why, are you trying to hide it?"

"Yes," Leah hisses.

"I don't get it," Alice says, tilting her head. "I thought you wanted to make documentaries? Isn't this a good thing?"

Leah groans.

"Don't mind her," Bella says, trying to muffle her humor. "Leah's always had stage fright. Actually, when she was, like, nine or ten-"

"Bella, don't," Leah warns.

Bella ignores her with a gleeful smile. "-she was part of a stage play on the res and ended up throwing up _all over_ our friend Paul, who has not let her live it down and has held a grudge about it ever since."

"You traitor," Leah accuses.

Rose looks somewhat surprised. "That's so ironic, considering she's always filming you."

"I know, right?"

Leah makes a face. "Enough about me. Let's talk about _you two_. Specifically, let's talk about this fight you two had!"

Alice looks back, exchanging a weighted, somewhat guilty look with Bella, who merely pets her head again. "It was a little fight," Bella says.

"A little fight," Leah echoes in disbelief.

Rose snorts. "A little fight that had you moving out of the dorm and shacking up with your boyfriend."

"My boyfriend's brother's fiancée," Bella corrects, for what feels like the millionth time. She purses her lips, knowing that they're giving her a hard time for the humor of it, even as Alice shifts and looks down. "It's no big deal, now. We've made up and we're good. Right, Ali?"

Alice smiles somewhat meekly. "Water under the bridge, hopefully."

"It is," Bella assures her.

Rose and Leah look at each other.

"I'm letting it slide," Leah says.

Rose flips her hair over her shoulder. "We're all big girls here, so I'm glad you two could resolve this by yourselves. But," she reminds them. "We have a dorm rule. No in-fighting. So, tell us what happened so we can prevent this sort of thing in the future."

Bella bites her lip, because while she would love to talk about it - because talking about it as a group and outlining where things went wrong and figuring out how to do better is always the smartest thing to do - it's not really her place, either, because it's not her story to tell.

To Alice's credit, however, she launches into the story without skipping over any details, even the messy ones that have her ducking her head in shame. They all listen carefully, even Bella who has heard the entire thing once before. As Alice speaks, Bella can see the righteous fury that passes over Leah's face and the cold anger that straightens Rose's spine. They're silent, but obviously angered - anger, it seems, that crops up when Jasper or James are mentioned. In contrast, when Alice talks about the actual blow-up at Bella, both girls send Bella looks of varying sympathy, although Leah's is tinged with a slight resentment as she darts her eyes between Alice and Bella.

Leah's thoughts are easy to read for Bella. Her sister wants to know why she isn't holding a grudge, even though she _clearly_ should and is _definitely_ entitled to. If it were Leah, she would have given as good as she got.

But Bella isn't Leah and it's not in her nature. She had been hurt by the things Alice said, had questioned herself, but she hadn't ever been _angry_ about it or anything that did - or didn't - happen immediately afterward. How could she, knowing that her friend was obviously distressed? Maybe Leah would have boiled and maybe Rose would have frozen over, but Bella has always been a cool, placid lake. Anger does not have a way of staying in her heart, because even turbulent waters eventually calm.

Alice has already been forgiven, especially now that Bella knows the entire story. If anything, Bella feels a healthy dose of remote dislike for the people who had contributed to the situation. She doesn't understand the motivations of James Denali, and neither does she understand Jasper Whitlock. What had she, as Swansong, done to anger one? What had she, as herself, done to entice the other? It had been misfortune and misunderstanding that created a perfect storm for Alice to be lost in, and that is what clutches at Bella.

She doesn't care for the surface incidents. She wants to know about the things in the shadows. But as far as Alice knows - and as far as Bella, as Swansong, can determine - James Denali was a wild card, which means Bella cannot piece together his catalyst. At most, she figures Swansong had angered him in the game, somehow. But as she has thought before, that's not a very good clue.

Jasper Whitlock, on the other hand, is a topic that Alice knows much more about, visibly torn about his entire role.

"And after that?" Rose prompts.

"Has he approached you?" Leah asks.

Alice takes a breath. "He…apologized."

This is news to Bella. She raises her brows, looking at Alice in askance. "And then…?"

"And then nothing," Alice says vaguely.

Rose makes a skeptical noise.

Alice wilts, then mumbles, "I let him text me."

"Alice!" Rose says loudly. "He doesn't deserve that!"

Alice squirms, but even she doesn't look wholly convinced. "His apology was sincere…"

Bella sighs, patting Alice on the back. Maybe Alice hasn't fully forgiven Jasper, but knowing Alice, that forgiveness isn't far off. Hopefully he can prove himself, maybe not as a potential boyfriend, but at least as a friend. People make mistakes. Alice, in particular, is a fan of second chances.

But, that isn't to say her friends will let her get hurt twice. Even without verbally saying it, Bella knows that Rose and Leah are thinking the same thing, albeit with very different plans in mind.

"Don't waste your breath, Rose," Leah says, sinking further into the bean bag. "Alice has exactly one mean bone in her body and she already used it."

"Are you sure?" Bella checks, peering at Alice in concern.

Alice, who has twisted the hem of her shirt into wrinkles, shakes her head a little helplessly. "I don't know…Maybe? I just…I really don't know."

"Did you believe what he said?" Rose asks bluntly. "Or do you think it's something he'll do again?"

Alice remains uncertain.

"It's okay to be skittish, Ali," Bella tells her. She hasn't stood in Alice's place before, she hasn't been where Alice is standing, but she can understand the way a tender heart might work.

"Bella's right," Rose says, only somewhat stiff, crossing one leg over the other. "You can feel whatever and that's fine. Totally validated. If you don't trust him, then don't feel bad about it. If you do trust him, then just be cautious."

Leah levels Rose with a look. "Nice words of wisdom."

Rose lifts her chin. "I raided my mom's self-help books this summer. Mostly to beat Royce over the head, but they had some helpful tips inside, too."

"I can tell," Leah deadpans.

Bella leans close to Alice's ear, dropping her voice so only Alice can hear her over the renewed bickering of their roommates. "Hey, Ali?"

"Yeah?"

Bella releases a slow breath. "Just…remember that forgiveness doesn't mean you're giving someone permission to hurt you again. Okay? We love you for your big heart, but that doesn't mean you have to give it away just to be nice."

"I'm not," Alice says quietly. "I don't think I am. I think he meant it."

"Well, alright then."

Alice twists around, planting her chin on Bella's knee. She smiles sweetly, still a little small and unsure, but there all the same. "Thank you, for, you know…"

Bella's lips curl upward. "We look out for each other."

And this time, Bella thinks, she'll be looking out for Alice.

* * *

**[Instagram]**

(One picture post.

Four faces are scrunched into the frame, each of them making exaggerated faces beneath the different colors of mud masks; one face is avocado green, another is deep coal, the third is turquoise, and the last is a blue-purple. The only other distinguishing features are four distinctly different eye colors and shapes, and the varied tones in hair color. The one with dyed violet hair is the one taking the picture.

The girls look happy.)

Posted 20 min ago

**clearly_filming_this **you come to me on the day of our reunion and you ask me to wear a mud mask!

#godfather #canieatthismask #roomies #pipinghottea

**Comments**

byanyothername: you couldn't even get my good side? I have a reputation

mathmagician: all of your sides are good sides my queen!

jbisnowhere: I wouldn't mind if a few of those masks were sent my way

clarity_is_clear: buy your own you mooch

* * *

The morning after is the first day of classes. Bella is fully prepared, her laptop charged and in its ivory carrying case, her supplies organized, her textbooks tucked away in her denim backpack. She pulls on her comfiest jeans, plain white canvas shoes, and Masen's space-dyed grey hoodie, which swallows up her hands, bunching around her wrists, and falls just above her mid-thigh. She twists her hair into a high bun, pats her cheeks with her daily moisturizer, and slicks on tinted Chapstick. And then she looks at herself and thinks, _Today I am starting my junior year of college_.

Time has passed so quickly. Was it really only two years ago that she was taking her very first college classes and still getting lost on campus? It seems like a lifetime - and both so much and so little has happened since then. She almost can't wrap her head around it.

All four of them are bustling around the dorm, even though Bella is the only one with the earliest class, dead-set on having breakfast together on the first day of term, just like always. Bella's stomach is growling, a caged beast. She daydreams about what the nearest dining hall will offer - she could _really_ go for a muffin, or maybe that thing Leah does where she wraps a pancake around sausage and dips the whole thing into syrup. Or both. With eggs.

"Can we go yet?" Bella asks, standing by the door.

Leah, emerging from their room, finishes zipping up her vinyl bomber jacket. "Oh, calm down, beauty queen. The dining hall isn't going to run out of food."

"There's a first time for everything," Bella retorts. Then she pauses, backtracking over what Leah had said. "And don't call me that."

A smirk wiggles its way across Leah's face. "Why not? That's what you are."

Bella huffs. "I am not! That contest is a ridiculous-"

"_Waste of bandwidth and energy_," Rose recites with her as she passes by, wrestling her newly beach-blonde hair into a semblance of order.

Leah snickers. "Yeah, that."

Bella pushes her lip out. She isn't _wrong_, is she? She still can't believe people pay attention to such insipid things. It's always so much trouble than it's worth - or rather, it causes _Bella_ more trouble than it's worth, because the stupid thing always puts a spotlight on her, right in the first few weeks of the fall semester when she's trying to acclimate to a new routine.

"Maybe you won't be nominated this year!" Alice says brightly, coming to stand beside Bella, looping their arms together.

Rose snorts.

"Yeah, good luck with that," Leah says facetiously, pulling open the door and locking it behind them as they leave.

Bella narrows her eyes. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Leah says coolly. "Maybe Alice is right and you won't be nominated. Maybe Twitter won't cancel someone today. Both things are possible."

Bella frowns, following after her sister skeptically, Alice practically skipping by her side. "You better not nominate me," Bella says, staring at Leah with narrow-eyed accusation.

Leah holds her hands up, palms out. "I didn't in the first place! I just think it's funny how annoyed you are by the whole thing," she defends, just like she always does.

Bella probably believes her. Probably. It would be easier if she wasn't so mirthful about it, but that's just Leah. She's always been like that, alternately intensely focused and wildly unpredictable, her heart always in near-enough the right place.

"It is pretty funny," Alice agrees cheekily.

Bella pinches her side. She really hopes to escape the Cardinal Trees contest this year, but she doubts she will. Maybe it's better to hope that she loses - surely that would bring less attention to her, right? Who cares about a runner-up?

By the time they reach the dining hall and Bella has loaded up a tray with the stuff of a well-rounded breakfast, their conversation has shifted several times. Leah is glad to have all afternoon courses this quarter because it means she can sleep in. Alice is excited about the design course she can take now that she passed her art prerequisite. Rose is determined to knuckle down and get work experience by the summer because there's a finance program she wants to apply for next year, but she isn't sure where to start. Bella mentions that her internship with Midnight Sun is still technically on-going, so she shouldn't be around on Fridays, and Rose wonders if they could use a helping hand from someone like her. Bella promises to ask.

And then Leah mentions the thing that Bella has been hoping everyone would miraculously forget about. "So, the baby of our group is having a birthday soon," she says casually, dark eyes lighting up gleefully when Bella's face twists in distaste. "And even though she _hates_ her birthday, she should know that this one is a right of passage and we _will_ be celebrating it."

"Bar crawl," Rose says immediately.

"Twenty-one things for twenty-one years!" Alice suggests brightly.

Bella sinks lower in her sink. "Or we could just go a quiet night in. That's also an option."

Leah wags her finger at Bella in admonishment. "Now, come on, sis. Don't be a spoilsport. You're the last of us to reach drinking age, so you should know we've been patiently waiting for you to have certain iconic college experiences."

"The iconic experience of vomiting our guts out?" Bella asks dryly.

"That would be the one," Leah confirms.

Bella wrinkles her nose. "I don't want to go to a bar," she says, just barely on the verge of whining. "We can do anything else, but I really don't see the point. Can't we just get lit on, like, wine coolers at the dorm?"

They all laugh at her, even Alice, and Bella feels resignation settle over her shoulders.

Well. At least she has a few weeks to get used to the idea. Honestly, the things she'll do for her friends.

* * *

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
**#collegelife is accidentally going to the wrong lecture hall #ImNotTakingThisClass

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
****ʘ****thelittlecygnet** I see your #collegelife and raise you the tale of this one guy who didn't realize he wasn't taking the class until it was over #thelookonhisface

Alice Bee **ʘ****aliceseesyou  
**#collegelife is being afraid of the scary TA who laughs at your questions

Rose Hale **ʘ****byanyothername  
**You're all wrong. #collegelife is attending the 8AM class of your 8PM class accidentally #thisonewins

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
****ʘ****byanyothername **do you really think your story wins?

Rose Hale** ʘbyanyothername  
****ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis** he was 12 hours early how does that not win?

Seth Clearwater **ʘ****changethisquil  
****ʘ****thelittlecygnet** **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis** why don't you two ever tell me these things when you're home?

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
****ʘ****changethisquil** you're too young to understand

Seth Clearwater **ʘ****changethisquil  
**I'm 16!

Bella Swan **ʘ****thelittlecygnet  
****ʘ****changethisquil** Too young

* * *

Bella makes time on Thursday night to log onto Dawn of Warcraft. In a way, it feels like coming home to see Swansong on the screen, treading through daily quests to collect rare herbs and help a wayward NPC villager cross a river. She hasn't been able to play the last few days, which is typical for the beginning of a semester, so it's nice to squeeze in a few consecutive hours before her classes really pick up. And she has a feeling they will very soon, if only because she's taking a fifth course this quarter that's kind of like a computer lab for software engineering. She's actually looking forward to the early morning lab, especially after seeing what software engineering looks like in the real world.

Time will only tell if she'll feel the same in a few weeks, when surely the novelty of waking up so early for that one class will wear off. She isn't a morning person. Ideally, all of her classes would be in the afternoon, too. But the way her class schedule worked out, it was either take one morning class this semester, or take four morning classes in the spring. She chose the lesser of two evils.

Bella guides Swansong into finishing another daily request. She's going through her inventory, sorting through her excess, and deciding what to donate to her guild, when a private message pops up on the corner of her screen. She still hasn't changed the block on the public chat from several months ago and has found the peace of not knowing what online chatter soothing. But of course, the forum news is never too far with Janeway as a friend.

《 **Janeway**: so I've been hearing things

《 **Janeway**: ApPArenTLy there's a DOW sequel in the works

《 **Janeway**: how cool is that?

Bella sits back against her pillows. Janeway is right, of course, because there _is_ a sequel to Dawn of Warcraft in the works and deciding its direction has become something of a debacle. But Bella only knows about this because of her interning at Midnight Sun. She wouldn't have known otherwise simply because Volturi hasn't released any official information - and Volturi is notorious for keeping things under wraps until things are concrete. Even Bella's speculations about the Dread Cave leading to other avenues of play on an expanded map are just that - speculations from a player searching for tell-tale clues.

She has no earthly idea where Janeway got this information. But of course, she doesn't know what Janeway does during her free time - and her gaming friend does have a mysterious ability to know _all_ of the gossip even before it hits the official forums. Bella tries not to be too surprised.

》**Swansong**: where did you hear that?

《 **Janeway**: oh just around

《 **Janeway**: you can find news about anything if you know where to look

Well. Bella suspects now more than ever that Janeway has some…unscrupulous internet habits. Maybe Janeway is like Garrett, who is apparently gifted in backdoor hacking.

Still, regardless of what Janeway does or doesn't know for certain_, Bella_ happens to possess insider knowledge that she has been trusted to keep quiet. So she plays it cool, trying to sound skeptical without confirming or denying whatever rumor Janeway has stumbled across.

》**Swansong**: I'll take your word for it

《 **Janeway**: you should

《 **Janeway**: I know all

Bella snorts, shaking her head at her laptop screen. In the game, Janeway's avatar has materialized next to hers and looks a little worse for the ware. A cursory glance at Janeway's HP clues Bella into the fact that Janeway had likely just barely survived a quest. Her inventory still open, Bella kindly heals Janeway and sends an extra bundle of healing herbs for Janeway to make another potion later on.

《 **Janeway**: thanks!

》**Swansong**: no problem

》**Swansong**: you know a lot of things, that's true, except for how to survive a dungeon

》**Swansong**: :)

《 **Janeway**: okay first

《 **Janeway**: rude

《 **Janeway**: and second, I was part of a raid that had fifty other players

《 **Janeway**: someone was bound to get stabbed

《 **Janeway**: this time it was me

》**Swansong**: if you would just adjust your armor…

The armor issue is one that she and Janeway have revisited over and over. Female armor in video games is, Bella thinks, one part patriarchal objectification of women and one part a disturbing need to appeal to players with sex because the game itself is not good. She's always thought it was strange because Dawn of Warcraft is an excellent game that does not _need_ to use revealing armor on female-looking characters to cover up the fact that the game is either boring or poorly made.

Of course, there's surely an aspect of fashion sense that is going over Bella's head, given that she doesn't care all that much about it. She has eyes, so she knows that certain female armor sets are prettier than others, but Bella pays more attention to the protection they offer than how they look. Janeway is much the opposite. She plays for fun, mostly, so she doesn't care too much about the things serious gamers like Bella think about.

《 **Janeway**: oh whatever

《 **Janeway**: not all of us have husbands to give us customized armor

Bella smiles. She does like the rich jewel tones of the armor her Master Culler has given her, especially their modest cut and unrivaled protection. She sorely misses this armor when she's playing as Swanning - she always forgets what it was like _before_ she had this much protection, so Swanning takes a few more hits than before Bella's main account got an upgrade. She has to be careful not to get lazy. Armor is good, but she shouldn't rely on it too much…

《 **Janeway**: how's that going btw

》**Swansong**: what?

《 **Janeway**: your marriage obviously

》**Swansong**: oh

》**Swansong**: we're dating irl

》**Swansong**: did I forget to tell you?

《 **Janeway**: what!

《 **Janeway**: when did that happen?

》**Swansong**: this summer

《 **Janeway**: so I gathered

《 **Janeway**: but WHEN?

Bella squints in thought. It's a harder question than it should be. Honestly, Bella would say that she officially started dating Masen after their first date; but, if prompted, Masen would say they started dating when they finalized their in-game marriage. They can't manage to agree, but, for Janeway, Bella opts to go with _her_ opinion.

》**Swansong**: June

《 **Janeway**: that's

《 **Janeway**: that's 3 months ago

《 **Janeway**: way to bury the damn lede!

》**Swansong**: I really didn't mention it?

《 **Janeway**: you didn't lol

《 **Janeway**: but you also wouldn't

Janeway has a point. But given how many online lives Bella leads, is it any wonder she is prone to forget mentioning important life events to friends? On top of being a generally private person, she really can't be blamed for it, can she?

《 **Janeway**: it's fine

《 **Janeway**: I can't even be mad

《 **Janeway**: actually I'm happy bc I just won some bets with certain asshat players

》**Swansong**: bets?

《 **Janeway**: I told you you'd be making some rumors true didn't i?

Vaguely, Bella recalls teasing several weeks back during early summer. Janeway had said something about certain rumors, but Bella had put it out of her mind. She's a little irked, if not surprised, that Janeway had elected to place some sort of bet on the whole thing. She really doesn't want to know the details - she has a feeling she will be deeply mortified to know anything more about it.

《 **Janeway**: I took advantage of the situation

《 **Janeway**: so now I have new armor coming my way

《 **Janeway**: gold level

》**Swansong**: funny how things work out!

《 **Janeway**: right?

》**Swansong**: I'm so happy for you lol

《 **Janeway**: I'm just easy to please I guess

Bella huffs out a laugh when the next messages come through. Typical Janeway.

《 **Janeway**: now, about these dungeon raids

《 **Janeway**: how exactly does one survive them

》**Swansong**: I'll show you lol

Settling deeper into her pillow-laden perch and gearing up for the next hour or so of giving Janeway a tutorial on how to survive her current quest. It is, she thinks, a fine way to spend the rest of her evening.

* * *

**Midnight Sunners (Group Chat**)

Peter Programmer  
Hey  
Hey  
_The Intern  
_You're coming in today right

The Intern  
Before 12  
Why

Peter Programmer  
Okay so here's the thing  
Alistair needs HELP  
Specifically  
Your help  
ASAP  
Because he's unbearable

The CFO  
He's always unbearable

Peter Programmer  
More unbearable then

Call Me Chuckie  
He can't use his dominant hand  
I'd be grumpy too

Lame Not Liam  
He just threatened to stab you  
And Peter  
Like 10 minutes ago

Call Me Chuckie  
And I understand his frustration

The Intern  
What does he need my help with?

Peter Programmer  
What doesn't he need your help with!?  
He won't delegate!

Lame Not Liam  
Me and Chuck are working on  
our own things  
There's nobody to delegate to

The Intern  
Okay…  
But shouldn't Alistair be telling me this?

The CFO  
Pete's doing you a favor  
Believe it or not

The Intern  
Really?

Peter Programmer  
He's in a no-phone meeting  
with The Boss rn  
but I'm here to prepare you  
Things are tense in your dept

Call Me Chuckie  
Things are tense in all dept

Lame Not Liam  
It's more tense for us though  
We have just  
So  
Much  
To do

The Intern  
I can stay late tonight  
Should I take work home  
to finish during the week

Peter Programmer  
Youre a genius  
Yes  
That's exactly what you shld do!

The CFO  
Why didn't we think of that?

Call Me Chuckie  
You could do prelim designs…

The Boss  
No

Peter Progammer  
WHAT  
No?!

The CFO  
I should have known

The Intern  
It's no problem  
Really, I could make time

The Boss  
You have too many classes  
Focus on school

The Intern  
I can do it

The Boss  
Bella

The Intern  
Masen

Peter Programmer  
Are we  
Are we seeing a battle of wills

The CFO  
Is this a fight?

Peter Programmer  
Does anyone else see Mase's face

Lame Not Liam  
I feel uncomfortable

The Boss  
We'll talk when you get here

The Intern  
Yes  
We will.

The CFO  
Oh shit

Peter Programmer  
RIP Masen

The Boss  
Peter  
You don't look busy enough  
Check your email

Peter Programmer  
Oh god damnit  
Why is it always me?

* * *

Usually, when Bella is at Midnight Sun, her first order of business is checking her desk for any new projects that have been passed to her, logging into the company communication network, and organizing the tasks she needs to complete. She likes to know what her goals are for the day.

However, the first thing Bella does when she gets to Midnight Sun is go directly to the back office, where Masen is waiting for her, leaning up against his desk with his arms folded and his ankles crossed. Under the eyes of a dozen other people who have surely seen their minor disagreement on the company group chat, Bella closes the door, locking eyes with Masen.

"I can do some work from the dorm until Alistair's cast comes off," are the first words to leave her mouth.

"You're taking five classes this quarter," Masen counters.

"I know what my time looks like," Bella returns.

"I don't want you to sacrifice your grades for this company," he says.

"And I appreciate that," she tells him plainly. "But it's also not your choice to make. If I say I can handle it, then I deserve a chance to try."

Although Masen's face remains as placid as ever, she can see the minute pinch of his lips, the tick in his jaw, the clear struggle in his eyes as he wars with the needs of his company and his desire to make sure Bella isn't inconvenienced or strained in any way. She understands where he's coming from. He's a recent graduate who also had a complicated double-major, along with a bunch of additional minor classes, so he is intimately aware with the kind of time commitment a full course load takes, especially if one wants to do well. He doesn't want to place any extra stress onto Bella, not for the sake of his company.

But at the same time - Alistair is still a few weeks away from getting that cast off and the sooner projects out of the graphic design department are completed, the sooner others can piece everything together.

"I can do it," Bella says, appealing to Masen's sense of practicality. "It's only for a little while, right? Besides, I want to be involved."

Masen breathes out through his nose. "Three project limit for take-home work," he bargains.

Bella nods. Three projects to complete during the week, plus whatever she can do on Fridays, is a reasonable compromise.

"Make sure you take home one of the tablets today," he adds, not quite reluctant. "Share the completed work to the cloud."

Bella smiles, stepping into his space, rocking onto her tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Will do, Boss."

Masen's lips twitch. "Not you, too."

Bella meanders backward, a playful expression on her face as she shrugs her shoulders. "What's wrong with it? You are the boss, aren't you?"

Masen's eyes trail over her, something deliberate and heated in them, and Bella's heart trips over itself. "I'm not your boss all the time."

She bites her lip, unable to quite meet his eye, suddenly feeling very shy. "I should…" Bella trails off, reaching behind her for the doorknob.

"I'll find you for dinner," Masen promises, already circling around to his desk chair, seemingly putting the charged air around them completely out of his mind - just like that.

Bella, meanwhile, ends up stumbling over her feet when she closes the door behind her, and then looks up at a dozen faces looking at her with obvious expectation. The back office is soundproofed and there's only so much anyone can read from the body language through window-walls. Face hot, Bella valiantly lifts her chin and, trying for an un-flappable tone, says, "I won."

There are cheers around the room. Bella doesn't even feel bad about the teasing Masen will surely get later. It would serve him right for flustering her so much in the middle of the workday!

Gathering herself, Bella goes to her desk and picks up her animation tablet from the shrine of swans, before scuttling over to the graphics department to get direct instructions from Alistair, who _is _notably grumpy and glaring at his cast resentfully but who also gives her clear directions for what the vision is for DOW2.

Bella is intensely interested to learn that Midnight Sun is vested in representation in a way many video games are not. It's probably a gamble, what the graphics department has cooked up in their rough outlines, but Bella, as a female gamer on some kind of queer scale, can appreciate the vision. She's actually quite touched by it - and impressed.

Midnight Sun's mission statement is to revolutionize the gaming industry. She thinks that, with what the graphics department has in mind alone, that they are well on their way to doing just that.

And it all starts with Alistair saying, "Our characters shouldn't only be binary."

Bella sits down. "Do you mean…?"

Alistair nods, some of his irritation melting away. He's never been terse with her and neither have Garrett or Masen. She really doesn't understand their reputations for being prickly.

"There's more than two genders," Alistair says firmly. In his left hand, he clumsily twirls a pencil, which he has evidently been using to doodle jerky lines across his personal sketchbook. Some lines are darker than others, the pencil lead pressed into the paper, a sure sign of frustration.  
"Our characters will reflect that. We want to cover everything to give players a full spectrum of options that reflect real life."

"I voted we just make all the avatars androgynous," Charles pipes in.

"And we vetoed you," Liam says tiredly, eyes not leaving his screen where he is rendering one of the early ideas. "It might have been easier, but we're Midnight Sun. Nothing we do is easy."

No truer words have been spoken by Bella's reckoning.

From there, they end up spending the next few hours brainstorming all the features they want to include, just on the avatar creation dialogue. Charles, at one point, says that the software engineers are going to be annoyed by how much data all of their ideas are going to take up, but Alistair is quick to mercilessly say that _it's their job; we make things look good, they make things work_. There's no hesitation after that, because now that Charles is placated, he really dives into how diverse they can make everything.

The board behind the cluster of computers dedicated to the graphics department soon becomes a collage of wild, far-fetched ideas. Bella is in charge of Googling reference images for the ideas that are being spitballed, running to and from the printer to pin up another idea. There are hairstyles, eye shapes, different noses, eyebrows, cheekbone shapes, jaw angles, neck lengths, shoulders, hands, wrists, torsos, backs, and every other part of the body - of as many distinct body shapes as possible - all the way down to the feet. Alistair is determined to start everything from scratch.

"I don't want to use stock bodies," he tells his team. "Other games use stock bodies. I want our bodies to be real."

"Then shouldn't that also mean we augment the abilities of these bodies?" Bella asks. Three sets of eyes turn to her and she sits up straighter, putting words to the thought that had popped up in her head. "I mean, larger bodies move more slowly, right? Smaller bodies are more agile and flexible, but they're also weaker. We can incorporate those specifications into how the avatars are built."

"That would definitely be expanding on how bosses are programmed," Liam admits.

"Should we also allow them to gain or lose weight?" Charles asks.

Alistair taps his pencil against his cast. "How would that work? What would cause weight changes? Specific quests?"

"Daily quests," Bella says. "Maybe your weight stays static, unless you are participating in certain daily quests. Kind of like a choose-your-own paradigm."

"The Sims 4 did something similar, but I haven't seen it done in our genre," Liam says.

"So, that means it's on the list?" Charles checks.

Alistair nods. "Pin it."

And so Bella does, squeezing this idea between dozens of others. And then she goes back to the chair she'd wheeled over from her desk and dives straight into another discussion about what they can innovate for personal avatar designs. Voice comes up, and with it a debate on what that would mean for pre-programmed speech options, or if they should even have audible speech. Liam snarkily says they can just have all the characters hum at each other, like Masen or Garrett, and it causes a great round of laughter that draws the attention of the rest of the room.

It continues from there. To Bella's delight, they start talking about the kind of armor they're going to be designing for characters. Clothing design isn't Bella's strong suit, but she certainly has _ideas_ on what would and wouldn't be appropriate for the female-looking characters, thinking back on her dealings with Janeway.

"I have a roommate," she says at one point. "She's majoring in design and she plays DOW. She might have some ideas…"

Alistair glances at her thoughtfully. "Do you think she would be interested in coming in? We," he says, gesturing at the three professional graphic designers. "Are not exactly experts in fashion. Additional input might be useful."

"I'll ask her," Bella says, but privately she thinks Alice will jump on the chance. All the same, she does as she's directed, hunting down reference photos for the armor ideas the others are talking about, printing those out, and pinning them to the board.

So absorbed they are in discussing the grand ideas they each have, they don't realize they are the last still left in the office until Masen idles by, stopping just beside Bella's chair and peering down at their work. He makes a thoughtful noise and Liam exchanges eye rolls with Charles.

"Looks good," Masen says.

"We're making progress," Alistair agrees. "We'll start with creating character designs based on the race and classes we spoke about earlier this week."

"Give Bella three to be completed next week," Masen orders. "And then clock out. You've done enough."

Alistair pauses, looking up at Masen with mirth. "Is that your version of _good job_, Boss?"

"Mm."

Bella smiles and takes the assignments Alistair gives her - and the animation tablet Masen insists on her taking home - and then helps clean up the mess she'd help make in the office before she lets Masen pull her away. He leads her out of the office with a hand on the small of her back and she waves to the stragglers, who yell out their good-byes and grumble good-naturedly about the projects they have ahead of them.

Outside the office, Bella adjusts the cross-body bag she has long-since dedicated to her internship work and smiles prettily at Masen. "Where are you taking me?"

There is a tiny smile playing at the corner of Masen's mouth. "Found a place recently," he answers. "It's nearby. You'll like it."

"How do you know I'll like it?" she challenges.

Masen's arm slips around her waist, anchoring her firmly to his side as they cross the first street. "Because I know you," he says, and Bella's heart flutters at the sheer confidence he exudes.

He does know her. He knows her very well. She thinks one day he might know her better than anyone.

She hopes the same is true for her - that she will know him better than anyone, too.

The place Masen takes her to ends up being a hole-in-the-wall comic book shop that is tucked between a Mexican place and a yarn shop. There is a poster of Deadpool in the window nearest to the restaurant; Deadpool is holding a chimichanga and someone has printed out a speech bubble that says, _Best Tacos In Town, and Yes, We Get A Discount For This Poster_.

Inside, there are about twenty shelves lining three walls, with five other free-standing shelves squeezed into the center of the room, all of them lined and stacked with comic books, mint condition classic action figures, and Funko Pop dolls. There are also barrels and milk crates full of rolled-up posters and a glass case in the back that Bella bets is full of the first-edition treasures. Bella, who has never been to a comic book store in her life as she honestly hadn't ever had a specific interest in superheroes outside of movies, is immediately overwhelmed. She doesn't know where to start.

Well. That's not true. She does.

Bella twists around, brows raised high. "I didn't know you were into comics," she says with a faint sort of awe.

Masen tucks his hands into his pockets. "I have a small collection," he tells her. "In the loft."

This is news to Bella. Somehow, it makes Masen seem more boyish, especially the almost sheepish way he won't meet her eye. It's so cute. "You'll have to show me when we go back."

Masen cuts his gaze to her at that. "Tonight?"

Bella isn't completely out of touch. She understands his implication and she can already imagine the grief she's going to get when he leaves another hickey on her later - but all the same, she says, "Yes, tonight. Now…where do I begin?"

Masen tilts his head. "Do you like Marvel or DC? Dark Horse?"

"I liked the original Teen Titans when it was on Cartoon Network," Bella says after a beat. Raven and Starfire were her favorites, with Beast Boy coming in as a close third. She purses her lips, thinking. "But Marvel movies are better…"

"Hm. Follow me."

Bella does, trailing behind Masen with wide-eyed enthusiasm, starting at the rich colors of the comics they pass. From the back, the owner greets Masen by name and teases him for bringing his girlfriend and Masen says something back that Bella can't quite hear, because she's no longer paying attention, having stopped in front of a rack, pulled out a comic, and become quickly engrossed by the art inside.

After a while, Masen circles back around to her. "I see you found Spider-Gwen," he says, stepping up close behind her so he can look over her shoulder as she slowly flips through.

"It's incredible," she says honestly. "I've been missing out."

"Marvel has more realistic characters," Masen tells her.

"That's probably why I like it," she decides after a moment, closing the comic book and hugging it to her chest. She's _definitely_ buying it. She should probably find the first issue, though, since she's admittedly a bit lost about the storyline. She bends closer to the shelf, hunting down the earliest issue available, and reaches for it with a sense of victory.

"Mm?"

Bella gathers the next few issues, too, just to be safe. Distractedly, she adds, "I like the realism. Did you know that's what we're going for with the DOW2 project? I'm so happy about it, really, because video games could use a better dose of realism…."

Bella trails off, holding her stack as thoughts tumble through her head. She turns, chewing on her lip as she meets Masen's patient - and amused and fond-just-for-her - eyes, his expression otherwise blank.

There's an idea that's been floating around in the back of her mind ever since she spoke up earlier. If they can render specific body shapes and code in performance parameters of those bodies, then what else can they do? What can they do that hasn't been done before? She looks to Masen, putting her thoughts into words.

"What if DOW2 has more realistic characters?"

Masen stares at her expectantly. "How do you mean?"

Bella's brow knits in deep thought. "I was thinking, earlier, at the office, that it's a great idea to expand gender options and use varied anatomy for our rendering. But…wouldn't it also be interesting if players were able to create a backstory during character design?"

She glances up, checking that Masen is paying attention, and is gratified to see an expression of solemn patience. She grows more confident because of this, finding a better way to explain the nebulous idea taking shape.

"We could allow players the option to give their avatars life events that modify their traits to make them more organic," she says. "For example, a player creates an avatar that is the sole survivor of a fire, and not only does that open the option for burns to be placed on the avatar, but it also means the player now has a character with an aversion to fire, or one part of the body that is not as flexible as others, or something."

Masen's mouth drops, just a little, and he stares at her for several too-long moments. For the first time in a while, Bella isn't able to understand what he's thinking from his microexpressions. There's simply nothing there for her to draw from and a sense of unease grips her.

"Oh, no. It's a dumb idea, isn't it?" she frets. "Forget I even brought it up! Really. I don't know what I was thinking - obviously we wouldn't be able to do something like that, and it would be a waste of time to -"

Bella is cut off rather abruptly by warm lips catching her mouth with a frantic, wildfire sort of intensity. It's a new kind of kiss, a flavor that is rich in spearmint and a thrilling flare of elation. Masen plants several quick kisses on her lips and when he pulls back, there is a new sort of expression on his face - a smile at the mouth, not wide but distinctly up-turned, and a crinkle at the corner of his eyes. Later, she will think of this expression and be able to place the _awe_ and _satisfaction_ and _pride_ there, but for now, she is mostly stunned at how his handsome features transform so fluidly into something twice as attractive. It's completely unfair. She can't even _think_ when he's looking at her like this.

"You're brilliant," he tells her, cupping her cheeks to kiss her again. "Innovative. Creative. Ingenious."

"Oh," she breathes out. "That's…So you like the idea?"

Masen's normally flinty grey-green eyes are glimmering. He takes the stack of Spider-Gwen comics from her wordlessly, pays for them at the register, and then guides her out of the store with his hand firmly curved over her hip. He's walking more quickly than usual, which she finds odd, but she is so caught up in trying to keep pace that she doesn't even realize they have returned back to Midnight Sun until Masen is ushering her up the stairs to his loft.

"Masen?" she asks, looking back at him as she climbs the stairs.

"Up," he says.

Bella frowns at him, a little confused, but does as he says, going up the stairs and then right into his loft. The door closes quickly behind him, the lock clicking and the crinkle of the comic book bag being placed down on the entry table, along with the clatter of his keys.

She hardly has time to turn around before Masen's arms are around her, one skimming up her spine to cup the back of her head, tilting her head back so he can see her clearly, the other a steel trap against his chest. She listens to him speak with wide-eyes, very belatedly realizing that Masen _very much appreciates_ her out-of-the-box thinking.

"You asked if I like the idea," he says softly, tone intimate as his lips graze the corner of her mouth. Her hands, trapped between their chests, twitch. "Allow me to show my appreciation."

This kiss is hot and heavy, a slick slide of lips and tongue, teeth nipping at sensitive skin. Bella falls into Masen, surrendering to the passionate take of each kiss and the delicious way his mouth moves against hers. He curls his taller frame over hers and, as they kiss, they shuffle backward - and then she isn't quite sure how it happens, but Masen is suddenly beneath her as she straddles him on the couch, his neck tilted back to maintain the heat of their kiss.

Bella is very aware of her body and of his body beneath hers. They're tangled up in each other, fingers running through hair, arms wound around necks, hands on shoulders and backs and hips. He has wide hands, long fingers, and his touch is hot everywhere, even over her clothes. Bella tilts into the kiss, closing her teeth around his bottom lip and basking in the quiet groan he makes right before he licks into her mouth again. Her thighs tense and squeeze at the shiver that runs down her spine, and then her hips, seemingly of their own volition, lurch forward.

Oh.

_Oh_.

That's -

Masen's breath stutters, the sound almost lost beneath the volume of Bella's gasp. They part, just enough that Bella can see the red-wet shine of his mouth and the heaviness of his eyes, pupils dilated, his hair a mess, sticking up in discordant directions. Her chest is heaving as he, very deliberately, places his hand on her hip. Never once breaking eye contact, Masen guides Bella to roll her hips forward, a slow, steady grind that has her lighting up in unfamiliar, utterly enticing ways.

Masen's ears are red. He helps her roll her hips again, and this time she can feel the way his body makes a minute rut beneath hers. And that's. It isn't so much that, physically, it feels good, because her jeans and his are in the way - but all the same, heat zings up her spine at the realization that she, Bella Swan, did something that made Masen Cullen be _like that_. Hard beneath her, with eyes darkened by obvious desire.

Bella doesn't know what to do. She's never, ever felt like this. She feels - good. Powerful. Maybe even lusty, a shiver wracking her spine, her skin warm and sensitive everywhere. Intellectually, she knows what this is - sexual arousal, stimulated by a partner - but she never thought she would feel like this. Didn't know she was capable.

But she - well, she knows how she feels about Masen. How she thinks she feels about him. She's pretty sure. So, is it all that surprising?

Bella swallows, her mouth tender and bruised, and without Masen's guidance, she rolls her hips down once. Testing. Trying it out. Seeing how it feels. Watching the clench of his jaw, feeling the tightening spasm of his hands on her body. She likes it. It feels good. She does it again, this time a wiggling figure-eight, a little clumsy as she tries to find something that feels a little better than good. Beneath her, Masen draws in a deep breath, a heavy furrow in his brow - and then her hips roll again and something about the angle has her gasping out and repeating the motion immediately.

"Bella," he utters lowly and then draws her lips down to his again.

This time it isn't fire. It's syrup-slow and sensual, an exchange of breaths between open-mouthed kisses. She digs her fingers into his shoulders, his hair, her hips rolling down to meet his upward hitches. Then his hand, the one not branded to her hip, skims across the bottom of her rib cage and _up_, until his hand shapes itself around her breast. The contact has her moaning against his mouth, breaking away to draw in a heaving breath, even as he mouths at her exposed throat, teeth scraping across her collarbone - then his hand, testing the weight of her breast, his thumb tracing her nipple through her shirt and bra.

It's not even - These touches aren't daring, but even as explorations, she doesn't understand how it can all feel so good. It's like she didn't even know her body, not until she was chasing after something, not until Masen woke up nerves she didn't even know existed.

She wants -

"Please," she hears herself say, a base sort of desperation coating her breathless voice.

Masen hums against her throat, still lavishing her skin with the type of attention that leaves her marked. The hand on her hip moves across her belly and down, and then hesitates.

"Can I?" he asks, lips brushing against the hollow of her neck, his breath hot.

Bella nods, not quite understanding, but knowing enough to trust that Masen obviously knows what to do, what she needs, what can abate this -

Masen's hand squeezes into her newly unbuttoned jeans - and her heart ratchets in her chest when it dawns that Masen is touching her, skin to slick skin, the heel of his palm pressing against a place of glory that has her trembling.

He makes a low oath under his breath, his touch moving, stroking and applying pressure that has her head spinning, clutching desperately at him, gasping out versions of his name that aren't entirely coherent. He finds a rhythm that has her rolling down to meet every touch, her thighs burning as her heart gallops between her ribs, all the while he watches her, nipping at her skin, kissing at her jaw, drawing her in for another delirious kiss.

She trembles against him, panting, when it crests over her, and slumps forward, shivering as he eases her through the aftershocks. Her face feels bright red, her mind a little slow, so she isn't in any place to be consciously embarrassed by the shine of his fingers when he draws his hand out of her pants, or the curious dart of his tongue against the wetness. She can't blush any more than she already is, and now she feels strangely tired. Sated.

But, oh.

"Did you…?" she asks, not quite sure how to phrase the question.

"Not important," he tells her.

She straightens on his lap, frowning down at him. "That's not fair. I should -"

"Not about fairness," he interrupts, a faint curl on one side of his mouth. "Another time. This was good."

Bella hesitates, then nods. She's secretly a little relieved. Masen might have known what he was doing, but Bella has no idea. Rose goes on and on about how it's all _instinctual_ and _the world's oldest dance_ but, for Bella, sex has always been a distant whisper, like a secret she wasn't meant to hear. Now that that's changing, she finds herself floundering. She's grateful that Masen doesn't seem to be inclined to pressure her to return the favor, because she doesn't even know where to start.

Instead, she kisses him, a kiss that feels incongruously sweet compared to what had just happened between them, and lets her heart return to normal. All the while, Masen cradles her close until she bashfully requests to _clean up_.

He lets her up and stands as well. Bella dutifully _does not look_ at the bulge in his pants. Instead, she pays attention to what he's saying. "Will you stay the night?"

Bella smiles warmly. She can't think of anything better - or more grounding - than sleeping in Masen's bed, surrounded by his scent and his clothes and _hopefully_ his arms, as well, if she can convince him to share the space with her, which she successfully does after a quick rinse of a shower, an order of Chinese take-out, and viewing of _Into the Spider-verse_.

She sleeps that night with her head pillowed against his chest and thinks that she's never slept so well in her life.

* * *

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**We saw a walk of shame #youarentfoolingmesister

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete  
**We also saw a walk of shame **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis **#kidsthesedays

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
****ʘ****peteypete **who are you

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete  
**Your sister's boyfriend's best friend and ultimate wingman

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**How do I know you arent lying?

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete  
**Proof enough?  
(Picture Attachment: Peter is taking a selfie with  
pillow tracks still on his cheek, giving a thumbs-up  
to the camera with Masen glowering in the background)

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete  
**Your turn!

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**Fine.  
(Picture Attachment: Leah has clearly roped Bella into  
a selfie, as Bella is looking at her wide-eyed and  
obviously bewildered as the picture is taken.)

L Clearwater **ʘ****ClearlyFlimingThis  
**Let's take this off main. I want to know what you know.

Peter C. **ʘ****peteypete  
**Ask and ye shall receive #thisisthestartofabeautifulfriendship

* * *

**A/N: Me, writing the last portion of this chapter: _Well, this wasn't supposed to happen yet…_But it's not like you guys are going to complain. Y'all are thirsty af lol There were one of two clues in this chapter that will piece together down the road and I am cackling about it! **

**Not sure what needs to be explained this chapter. Spiderman comics are self explanatory, although you should know the Spider-Gwen is an interesting take on the story we know and love and is definitely worth checking out. If you're new to comics, it's worth mentioning that while there are two main houses (DC and Marvel), there are many other comic houses that produce truly extraordinary work. Dark Horse is one of those, and they make _incredibly unique_ comics and graphic novels - Hell Boy and The Umbrella Academy are two of the most famous comics to come out of Dark Horse.**

**Ah. I should clarify that Call Me Chuckie is Charles and Lame not Liam is Liam, just in case it wasn't clear. The CFO is Emmett. **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay smart. **

**~Rae**


	50. that damn southern hospitality

**[that damn southern hospitality]**

_You make me a jumbled mess._

_You have the prettiest smile._

_I like how quick you are to laugh and smile._

_I like you._

_I've liked you for a while_.

Jasper said all these things to her. Did he mean it? He seemed like he meant it, so maybe he did. He was earnest. He looked truthful. He held her fabric - insisted on it, really - and hadn't let her leave until he was sure she understood his sincerity.

But can she trust what he said? Alice wants to, because she desperately likes this boy, but he's also proven himself to be the fickle sort. A fickle sort that _fixates_, too.

Is he only just fixating on Alice now? Will someone better come along later? Maybe. But then, isn't that also the gamble with all love? The real question is whether she will gamble for him. Granny would call it a fool's bet.

Maybe Alice is just a fool. She's certainly proven herself to be one lately. She hopes she's grown from that, gotten a little wiser and wilier.

Jasper  
I have a triple shot  
And a surprise for you

Alice  
Where are you?

Jasper  
Outside

Alice puts aside the skirt she's working on, mindful of the pins keeping the hemline straight, and knee-walks to the window in her room. Sure enough, she can peer down and see Jasper Whitlock standing in front of Roble Hall, coffee in one hand and...something large in a box at his feet. She can't quite see him clearly from here, but she does admire the way he sunlight plays in his hair and the way his tall, lean frame cuts a neat figure in the foliage around him, which is already starting to turn to the warm hues of autumn.

"Where are you going?" Rose asks when Alice passes through the common room. Two weeks into the semester and Rose's desk is already a mess of notebooks and textbooks, her scientific calculator in one hand and no less than three wooden pencils shoved into the bun in her hair. Rose is absorbed enough in her studying that she doesn't even look up.

Alice vaguely wonders where Bella and Leah are, and then recalls the time. Mid-afternoon means classes for both of them. Maybe that's a good thing. While things with Bella have slotted seamlessly into place - largely due to Bella's nature, she knows - things with Leah haven't quite returned to normal. There seems to be - or maybe it only just _feels_ like there is - a faint sort of leeriness about Leah. Overall, Leah treats her as usual, always a little mean because that's just the way she is, but then there are times when Alice can sense the way Leah watches her. Alice doesn't know what Leah is searching for or what she sees, but she does know that Leah has a particular way of viewing the world, almost always in the role of spectator or commentator. Leah surely has an opinion about all of this, but she keeps mum about it overall.

Still, Alice can just imagine what Bella or Leah would say if they were here. Probably something similar to what Rose thinks, honestly…

"Jasper is downstairs," Alice answers, slipping her feet into the nearest shoes. She's pretty sure they aren't hers, but it hardly matters, not for a quick trip outside and back.

Alice hadn't spoken very loudly, but Rose's head snaps up anyway. Rose looks at her with that shrewd gaze of hers, the one that sees through all the nonsense and cuts right to the bottom line, the quick of an issue, the common denominator. Rose's blue eyes are cold when she says, "Oh, _that _asshole. What does he want?"

Alice presses her lips together. "He says he has a surprise," Alice says. And coffee, she doesn't add. Jasper seems to think that Alice needs a constant supply of coffee. He isn't wrong. She thinks it's sweet, if not a little misguided.

Does he...only think she'll see him if she can get something out of it? She hopes not, but it does seem that way, doesn't it?

She thinks, not for the first time, the Jasper seems a little green in the world, hardly aware of his own feelings and not seeming to recognize others. She had thought, before, that it was simply because he's a little young. But now, there seems to be something awfully sheltered about him. He has a clumsy temperament, one she hopes he'll grow out of. That's what he's trying to do, she thinks. It's just unfortunate that she has to be part of his growing pains.

Rose clicks her tongue. "Is his surprise going to be that he's not a going to be an asshole anymore? Because that's the only acceptable surprise."

"Rose."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes," Alice says emphatically. "At least give him the benefit of the doubt."

Rose arches a brow. "Is that what you're doing? How's that working out?"

Alice sighs. "Don't be so negative."

"Don't be so naïve."

"I'm not," Alice insists. She doesn't think second chances are naïve. She thinks second chances are something that everyone deserves because everyone makes mistakes and everyone deserves the chance to make up for them, however they can.

She thinks Bella is the only one who understands this.

"That damn Southern hospitality..." Rose shakes her head, turning back to her desk.

_Yeah_, Alice laments. That damn Southern hospitality, indeed.

Alice goes downstairs, floating between hope and confusion and anticipation. She squeezes against a wall when a few coeds pass her on the way down, shooting them strained smiles. She tries to temper her expectations because expecting things out of people only leads to heartache, but she has trouble doing it.

Maybe Jasper is destined to give her heartache, like a test. Maybe Rose is right and Alice should have a smaller heart. Maybe Bella is right and Alice is just giving part of herself away because she's too tender, too timid. Maybe Leah was right and Alice needs to be watched to ward off further mistakes. Maybe Alice should leave right now and not look back and forget about Jasper altogether.

But then she gets downstairs and the cool crisp of the fall greets her and Jasper is standing there, toeing his foot on the ground and licking his lips.

He looks nervous. Alice tries to take that as a good sign.

"Jasper…"

He lights up when he sees her. There's no other way to describe it. "Alice!" he says with feeling. "Ah, here, your coffee. I hope it's still hot."

It is still hot, a pleasant warmth in her palms. "Thank you," she says softly, taking a careful sip. It's strong and sweet, a generous layer of whip cream on top.

Jasper looks down, quietly pleased.

Alice looks down too, rooting through a fissure of awkwardness, her eyes landing on the large box. There is plastic over the top as the contents are too misshapen for the box to close. Jasper said this was for her, didn't he? Her curiosity peaks. "What is this?"

Jasper laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck. "It's…silly. It was impulsive, but when I saw it…"

Alice crouches down and lifts the thick plastic off the top. She almost drops the coffee at the sight of what is inside.

Now, Alice is a lover of fashion, and any decent aficionado knows the history of fashion, right back to the start. Alice has a particular affection for sewing machines, so she knows immediately that what is inside the box is a true antique. Even separated into pieces, the ironwork, the elegantly shaped pedal, the size of the bobbin, and the hand-painted flowers on the lacquered pale blue surface are dead ringers for a genuine sewing machine from the early 1900s.

"Where did you get this?" she breathes, turning wide, round eyes up to Jasper.

"Oh." Jasper goes pink in the cheeks. "I was at this antique store and I saw it and thought of you," he says simply.

Alice blinks, trying to slot all this information together. The one thing her mind focuses on is the idea of Jasper Whitlock at an antique store.

"It's a hobby," he says to her silent question.

It's an interesting hobby for a nineteen-year-old boy, but then again, he is studying history isn't he? Anthropology? Alice can hardly judge. She spends a huge chunk of time every week searching for deals and inspiration online. She even runs a fashion blog to answer fashion-related questions. Alice's hobby is more of a lifestyle, whereas Jasper…

Belatedly, it occurs to her that antiques are expensive. She should know. Half of Granny's things have been appraised for value and the Brandons have a modest collection of heirloom pieces that, if sold, would net a pretty penny. Not that any of them would even _think_ of selling parts of their family history. But still - this antique sewing machine is surely more than Jasper can afford, right?

"Jasper, you bought this…for _me_? I can't accept this," she tells him, shaking her head and standing from her crouch. "It must have been so expensive"

Jasper coughs. "It's nothing. The ranch is doing well…and you're worth it," he adds shyly.

Warmth spreads through Alice, a pleasant feeling accompanied by an urge to smile. She tramps it down, just barely. "Really, I can't. It's too much," Alice says firmly, trying to draw a line because she _has_ to, for the sake of her own heart. If she gives in now, then surely that's sending a message, right?

She doesn't want Jasper to misunderstand.

_She_ doesn't want to misunderstand.

Jasper appears crestfallen. "Ah. I see…" He looks down at the box, nudging the glasses on his nose, his mouth the tiniest bit downturned. "It's fine. I'll just store it, then," he decides haltingly.

"Okay."

"Yeah."

Alice tucks the coffee closer to her chest, the wind rustling a few leaves off the trees. She feels decidedly awkward, knowing that she has obviously disappointed him but not sure what she can do…It's not like she can actually accept such an expensive gift, right? It really is too much. "Well, then…if that's all…" she trails off.

Jasper jerks his head around. "It is!" he says abruptly, then winces. "It's - you can go back to whatever you were doing before I bothered you."

_Before he bothered her_. He keeps saying things like this, as if his company is a burden to her. It's not. Not really. He makes her uncertain and confused, but she's never _bothered_ by his presence. She's…not exactly comforted by it, either, though and maybe that matters more than possibly hurting his feelings. She isn't sure, anymore. She isn't sure about a lot of things.

"Alright," she says after a beat, taking a step back. "I'll, uh, see you later then. Thank you. For the coffee."

"Okay, yeah. Great!" Jasper returns. "You're welcome. Um. Anytime. For the coffee, I mean."

_Why is it so awkward_? Alice thinks as she turns away. She doesn't want it to be awkward, but she doesn't know how to fix it, either. She does know - or she thinks, maybe - that she _wants_ to fix it, because Jasper is, for all his flaws, still fundamentally a good person. Or he could be. He can be so heart-wrenchingly sweet, like now, buying an antique sewing machine for her out of the blue, simply because he saw it and she was on his mind. For all he'd done in his ill-fated pursuit of Bella, Alice knows that Jasper had never been so…like this.

He's trying so hard. Every day, every time they talk or cross paths, Alice can only think about how hard he's trying. Because he likes her. Because he thinks she's worth the effort of earning her forgiveness. Because…he must be sincere about it all. There's no other explanation. What kind of man continually sets himself up for rejection? He's letting her decide everything, and in doing that, he's giving Alice time - but is time what she needs?

Maybe she needs to be bold, instead.

Alice only gets a few steps away before she's turning around, the guilt of being the cause for that crestfallen expression on his face getting to her. Granny always said it's the thought that counts - and Alice can recognize how much thought Jasper is putting into all of this.

It's the final push she needs.

"You could ship it!" she calls back.

Jasper's attention darts back to her, away from the box he was frowning at. He furrows his brows. "Wha - ship it?"

"To Mississippi," Alice clarifies, clutching the coffee to hide her hand-shaking nerves.

"You want me to…send it to your home in Mississippi?" he checks hesitantly.

"Yes," she answers plainly. She steels her resolve. "I…it's too large for the dorm room and I already have a machine here. But I don't have one in Mississippi. So. You could ship it there."

It takes a moment for her acceptance to sink in, and then Jasper smiles broadly, dipping his head like an old gentleman. "Yes, ma'am. I'll ship it right away, then."

Alice smiles too and walks away and hopes she isn't making a mistake.

It doesn't feel like a mistake. But Alice has been wrong before. Maybe this time she's right.

Jasper  
Here's the tracking information

Alice  
Okay  
I'll let Granny know  
Thank you

Jasper  
You're welcome

Alice  
I'll talk to you later then

Jasper  
I'll be around

And the thing is, Alice is starting to believe Jasper when he says he'll be around. He meets her the next morning with a fresh cup of coffee and insists on walking her to her class clear across campus, even though it means he has to book it to be on time to his own class. But he's there, waiting for her outside when her class is over, his cheeks red from the chilled air and his hair askew, still panting. He asks about studying together in the library some time and Alice agrees, warmed by the entire morning.

Alice is starting to believe in Jasper. She doesn't think it's a bad thing, either. But she does want her best friends on board, ready to steer her straight if she starts to veer off course again. So later that evening when she and her roommates are all gathering together to drag their feet to the nearest dining hall, Alice brings the topic up, feeling her face get hotter and hotter and she describes the, well, _sweetness_ of the whole thing.

"So, he bought you an old sewing machine?" Rose reiterates.

Alice really thinks that Rose is underselling it. However… "Yes," Alice says. "He bought me an old sewing machine. And shipped it to Mississippi for me."

"Huh." Rose narrows her eyes thoughtfully, looking up at the trees as they pass underneath.

Bella snags her hand and squeezes, gifting Alice with a beatific smile. "It's kind of romantic isn't it?"

_Bella gets it_. Alice knew she would.

On Bella's other side, Leah snorts. "Some kid throwing his money around is romantic?"

Bella rolls her eyes. "No," she tells her sister. "It's romantic that he went out of his way to get her something he knows she's interested in. He said he saw it and thought of her. Don't you think that's romantic?"

"I think it's trying too hard," Rose says bluntly.

"I'm going with our Rosey Posey here -"

"Don't call me that!" Rose snaps

Leah blithely ignores her, leaning around Bella to pin Alice with a hard stare. "You aren't even dating and he's dropping, what, three or four hundred dollars on you?" There's a protective edge in Leah's voice that's been missing lately, but it's heard loud and clear now. Even though Leah is trying to discredit Jasper, Alice still feels warmed by Leah's attitude.

Even Bella falters at that. She looks at Alice with thinly-veiled shock. "Wait, it's how much?"

Alice titters sheepishly, ducking her head. "Probably about that amount. Maybe more…."

"So, what, is he trying to buy you?" Rose demands, coming to a full stop, her hands on her hips.

"I'm not okay with that," Bella says with a frown.

"Yeah, me either," Leah agrees, resting her chin on Bella's shoulder. "This isn't _Pretty Woman_, for fuck's sake. Money doesn't buy anything here."

Alice shakes her head, looking at each of them earnestly. "I don't think it's that! I think…he isn't sure how to express himself," she decides.

"You can say that again!" Leah says loudly, elbowing Bella.

Rose throws back her head with a hard laugh. "Let's see. Basically stalking one girl, trying to buy the love of another. Yeah, that strikes me as someone who doesn't know how to use his words."

Bella bites her lip, probably thinking back to her own interactions with Jasper, limited as they might be. "Ah, I see what you're saying," she says with a sympathetic smile. "But that doesn't make it okay."

"Well, no…But he's trying, right?" Alice looks at her friends hopefully.

Can they see what she sees? Or is she looking for validation that she won't find? Do they maybe see something that Alice _can't_ see, being so close and emotionally invested in the situation?

Her friends all look at her, each of them with varying levels of thought and caution and fondness.

"You really like this guy, huh?" Leah says first, her tone somewhat resigned.

"I do," Alice confirms. "Does that make me stupid? Am I total idiot?"

Bella steps forward, pulling Alice into a comforting hug. "You're our Alice. You aren't stupid."

"Besides," Leah adds baldly. "The guy did buy you some old ass sewing machine. That means something, right?"

Rose purses her lips. "Trying too hard is still trying, so he gets credit for that."

A tremulous well of hope springs inside Alice, a faint thing with gossamer edges. "So…then it's okay if I…?"

"What? Date him?" Rose scoffs, reaching forward to pinch Alice's cheek. "Babes, it's your own damn life. We're not going to stop you. But we'll give him the worst sort of hell if he missteps again."

Bella and Leah agree, albeit Leah a bit more _enthusiastically_ than Bella, which is to be expected given their personalities.

Alice smiles at them, her lungs expanding as the hesitancy rolls of her back, like water off a duck. She really loves her friends, for their wisdom and their support and their protectiveness. With them at her side, Alice knows she can face anything - which is something she should have remembered over the summer.

But Alice won't forget. Not again. Not when she has _this_ friendship in her corner.

Alice can be brave.

* * *

**A/N: Jasper is trying to learn his love language and Alice is just like, "He gets an A for effort!" So, what do you guys think? Is Jasper redeeming himself? Is Alice being too soft-hearted? Are they truly destined for each other after all?**

As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, and stay smart. If you have the urge to, oh, I don't know, go to a bar or a pool party or any other large gathering where people aren't wearing masks, please resist the urge. Looking at you, certain states in America. Looking at you and very concerned about your people. But, to that end, there is a lot of definitive proof on the masks-are-effective front. Did you guys hear about the Missouri hairstylists? The COVID positive hairstylists wore masks while they worked on like 139 clients, also all wearing masks, and guess what happened? Nobody new contracted the virus. That right there is a real-time experiment to prove, unequivocally, that masks do work. So, wear a mask! And don't get hostile at service workers who ask you to wear masks in stores/places of business - they might be making your coffee or restocking the shelves, but their lives are just as important as yours. Additionally, pulling a gun on a store worker trying to enforce a mask rule? Not cool. All you're doing is proving that, in addition to being a selfish asshole, you _also_ shouldn't be allowed to own a gun in the first place since you obviously aren't responsible with the usage of it. Notice where that Venn diagram overlaps? Yeah, me too.

**Anyway! There is one more update this week, because work has been very demanding. But at least I still have work. **

**~Rae**


	51. twitch live stream:a thousand lost souls

[Twitch - Live Stream]

**Swanning  
**Dawn of Warcraft

Swanning is smiling, appearing very relaxed as she gives viewers her customary wave. She seems especially lively today in a cozy white knit sweatshirt and the front section of her hair parted, braided off to the side. Viewers who have watched her for a long time can recognize the simple happiness in her green eyes.

"Hey, everyone! As you can see," she starts, leaning back and gesturing to the familiar white backdrop with rainbow constellations behind her. "I'm back at the dorm now, which officially means time outside of class has no meaning. My classes are already just…I mean, mistakes have been made. I'm not sure what I was thinking."

"_You liar," _comes a voice from off-camera, the tone both acerbic and amused. "_You're an overachiever. You knew exactly what you were doing."_

"Don't listen to her," Swanning says swiftly. "My sister has no idea what she's talking about because if she did, that would _make her a hypocrite_."

"_I'm okay with that_," says her sister. "_If the price is exposing the truth to your loyal followers_-"

"Weren't you supposed to be going to some group study thing?" Swanning interrupts, raising her brows pointedly.

"_I see how it is. Don't worry, gaming people. I'll just hack into her Twitter and dish all her secrets to you later! Ah, hey, don't look at me like that. I'm going, I'm going."_

Swanning, her eyes still narrowed at the person off-screen, just says, "Bring me back a milkshake please."

_"Yeah, yeah_."

There is the sound of a door closing and immediately Swanning lunges for something just off the side of her computer. It turns out to be her cellphone, which she unlocks and taps at with a vaguely stressed expression. "Hold on," she tells them. "I just need to change my password. She knows too much."

**/deardirt/ **I wanna know what sis knows

**/KLR/ **you are not alone

**/ultrontron/** is it sexy secrets?

**/deardirt/ **don't be a creep

**/KLR/ **yeah dude, please see the Twitch anti-harassment rules to refresh your memory

**/ultrontron/ **jfc I was kidding

**/KLR/ **sure you were

**/deardirt/** he can keep dreaming, Swanning already has a bf

By the time Swanning pays any attention to the chatbox, the comments have been swallowed up by other viewers, many of them asking what today's stream would be about. Swanning brightens right back up, more than ready to dive into a demonstration of her own choosing.

"So, I recently came across this quest. It's from one of the last patches, maybe back in May? Have you guys heard about the Northern Temple quest?"

**/vern/** I've heard its brutal

**/pedro/ **doesn't it have a huge respawn rate?

Swanning nods, a smile flirting about her lips. "I saw something about it on the main forum the other day. Another player was frustrated by the first half of the quest and was asking for tips or even a cheat to get past it. But," Swanning says with a playful tone. "I don't like cheats. I went to check it out myself and I think I managed to figure out the best way to beat this quest. Are you ready?"

There is a general consensus in the chat that Swanning takes as permission to continue. Her energy is palpable even through the screen as she switches the view to have the desktop image of her avatar at the forefront, the map quickly pulled up and dragged around to the north-eastern corner. Swanning's avatar is taken right to the base of a singular tall mountain, resembling more of a tall, rocky beanstalk than anything else. Swanning walks her avatar around as she explains.

"This rock formation is the base of the Northern Temple, which was supposedly abandoned by its people hundreds of years ago. As you can see," she says, directing the camera view to look up, up into the sky, into the clouds, right at the shadowed outline of a building. "The temple is _way_ up there, which means getting that high without killing yourself is half the difficulty of the quest. There are ways around it, of course. Certain spirit forms, like the eagle, can simply fly up. But for everyone else, it's a climb."

Swanning pauses, smiling wryly at the camera. "Does anyone know why the climb is so hard? Serious answers only."

**/pedro/ **you've got me I have no idea

**/ultrontron/** not high enough hp?

**/deardirt/ **it's the climb feature

A smile lights up Swanning's face and she nods rapidly, guiding her avatar around the base of the rock formation.

"That's right. The trouble with the climbing feature is that it requires constant scrolling and toggling at a set pace, which means if you falter for a second or lose your rhythm, you'll end up falling and having to start all over again. In any other quest, starting from a respawn wouldn't be a big deal, but this quest logs how many tries you have, which affects the loot you'll get when you beat the, er, boss. In other words, your goal is to not die from the climb. Daunting, right?" Here, Swanning stops, and wiggles happily in her seat. "Lucky for you, I think I found a work-around that is easier than a straight climb. Here, I'll show you."

Swanning starts up the rock formation, climbing three or so paces before kicking off and floating into her signature walk-on-air move, easily rising to through the next several lengths before having to latch onto the rock formation again. As she does, she talks to the viewers. "The walk-on-air movement is so useful. You remember the tutorial from a while back? You don't have to be a total master at this function, but having some skill will make this easier."

**/ultrontron/ **SOME skill?

**/q_ed/** that's more than just some skill

**/KLR/** not to agree with these two

**/KLR/** but I don't think a lot of people could do this?

Swanning's eyes dart between the chat and the screen. She frowns. "Hey, now. Don't sell yourself short. The walk-on-air is easier than it looks, it just takes some practice. And it's really useful!"

**/vern/ **very useful and very niche

**/pedro/ **I'd be willing to give it a shot…I think…

**/deardirt/** where's your bravery men?

**/deardirt/** I'll give it a shot

**/deardirt/** I heard this quest has a loot I need anyway

"That's the spirit, deardirt," Swanning says proudly. On the screen, her avatar continues to push off, float up, latch on, and repeat. "Here's how it's done. What you want to do is alternate between jumps, walk-on-air, and straight climbs. It's best if you can be strategic about it. Like, it's much easier to do straight climbs on these small stretches of flat rock, but as soon as you get to a cliff, you can jump and propel yourself into the walk-on-air…like so…" Swanning demonstrates again with her avatar, waiting for the walk-on-air to start losing speed before switching it up again. "And then when you lose momentum, if you're near another cliff, launch off again, or latch onto the rock for a straight climb. I found this was easier than just going up and a lot faster too. If you're not great at the walk-on-air movement, then it's fine to just use jumps and climbs. It works just as well."

**/ultrontron/ **think I'm gonna opt for the jump strat

**/vern/ **yeah this one looks too risky swanning

"Well, yeah, you would think that it would be riskier than a straight climb. But there are parts of the rock that have no holds, and they come out of nowhere, which means when you pass over it, you're just going to end up slipping down. If you're lucky, you land on one of the little cliffs. If you're not, then you end up on the ground. For this quest, it pays to stay flexible," she tells them.

Swanning eventually makes it to the top of the rock formation, flipping up over the last cliff and landing in a crouch at the foot of a dilapidated temple. There are signs of beautiful architecture that has been destroyed by time and, by the looks of it, some kind of war, with burn marks and bloodstains on the white stone.

"It looks pretty empty, right?" Swanning asks, indeed showing just how empty the temple appears to be as she squeezes through a door hanging by one hinge and enters the temple proper, which is only populated by ivy that grows across the floors. Swanning heaves a sigh. "Well, looks are deceiving for this quest. There are certain unavoidable booby traps that you _will_ end up stumbling across, and from there…It's easier to show you. Let me see if I can find one."

**/q_ed/** there she goes, finding traps on purpose

**/KLR/** for our benefit too

**/deardirt/** what an icon

Soon enough, Swanning does cross a booby trap, one of the floor tiles sinking down beneath her foot. Immediately, there is a shrieking sound and the screen erupts to life with skeletons garbed in golden robes that close in on Swanning with terrifying speed.

Swanning jumps back, brandishing her weapon with expert ease, even as she explains why doing so is actually a waste of time.

"Okay, so, these skeletons are the cursed remnants of the temple, and because they're cursed, they are absolutely unkillable. Don't bother trying to kill any of them. They don't have any HP to take down and you'll only end up wasting your own energy. Do not, and I truly mean this, use any of your rechargable skills on these things, because you won't have time later to wait for them to circulate again." Here Swanning pauses, an amused quirk to her lips. "You know, at first I thought these skeletons were a barrier between me and the boss. But really, you'll notice that they start herding you in a specific direction. I mean, they are definitely trying to kill you, but they also seem to want to kill you in a specific place. So…"

Swanning spins around and by the virtue of having already completed this quest once, heads directly to where the skeletons are trying to get her to go, which is a grand room in the center of the temple that is mostly untouched. Once Swanning passes the threshold of the room, the skeletons stop and sway in place, groaning lowly as Swanning eases to the center of the room. At the center, there is a glowing golden orb that pulses in time with a now-audible heartbeat.

**/KLR/** k I can admit it

**/KLR/** I'm lost

**/q_ed/** now wtf is this

**/vern/ **wheres the boss?

Swanning circles around the orb, just shy of touching it, to let everyone get a good look. "This," she says with an air of importance. "Is the Orb of a Thousand Stolen Souls. The souls in question, of course, are those skeletons outside. See, a long time ago, the orb made its way into the temple and slowly started stealing the souls of the monks who lived there. When the monks tried to destroy it, they ended up killing each other and the orb got the souls of everyone here. Our objective for this quest is to finish the monks work."

**/deardirt/** ooooh, a twist

**/ultrontron/ **so the boss is the orb?

"Yes and no," Swanning answers. "Look. The second I touch the orb, it's going to…explode more or less and the trapped souls are going to become the boss….Watch…"

Swanning does as she says, touching the orb and immediately leaping back when it rapidly expands, the golden light taking over the entire room until it shrinks back into the gargantuan form of a golden figure with no face.

"For this boss, I recommend using any magic you have access to. Physical hits will take off blood points, but magic is usually best fought with magic, so…"

Swanning twirls through the confrontation, demonstrating how to rotate through arcane skills and keep the orb-figure in constant motion because "staying still will make it think it can take your soul". Even by Swanning's standards, this boss is a difficult one. She spends several minutes blasting through the boss' health points, the sound of her keyboard, and the clicking of her mouse audible through the battle. But because she is Swanning, she wins soon enough, the orb-figure losing it's golden glow to become a colorless husk that collapses on itself, shrinking to the size of a pearl that drops to the temple floor and crumbles into dust.

"And now that the orb is destroyed," Swanning says leadingly, shifting the view so that everyone can see the way the skeletons fall, one by one, wisps of golden light rising and twinkling out of existence. As the very last of the golden light fades, a prize for killing the boss appears before Swanning. She opens it and makes an appreciative noise. "A golden mirror. This has many uses, from finding hidden entries to being forged into armor that partially reflects an opponent's attack back onto them. The first time I completed this quest, I got an even better prize."

**/KLR/** I want some golden mirror armor!

**/q_ed/** alright yeah the loot is pretty cool

**/ultrontron/ **forget about the loot! Can we talk about what a mindfuck this quest was?

**/deardirt/** where are any of your priorities

**/vern/ **what do you mean

**/deardirt/** she hasn't told us how we GET DOWN

**/KLR/** shit youre right

**/pedro/ **well swanning how do you get down?

Swanning laughs at the chat and she looks like she's maybe about to answer, but then there is a sound off-camera, an opening of a door, and then an exasperated sigh.

"_You're still streaming_?"

Swanning raises her brows. "You're back already?"

"_I've been gone for, like, an hour and half."_

Swanning blinks, completely ignoring the screen. "Then where is my milkshake?"

"_Milkshakes are for people who end their streams on time. Don't you have projects to complete?"_

Swanning pouts and the chat erupts into exclamations about how her pouting should be illegal and how her sister must be stone cold to resist such a pathetic expression.

There is another sigh, and many views can imagine an eye roll accompanying it. "_Fine, here. I didn't forget your precious milkshake. It's an abomination, just the way you like it."_

Swanning reaches for the milkshake when it is handed to her, happily smiling at the camera. "Don't listen to her. Again. There's absolutely nothing wrong with a peanut butter cookie dough milkshake."

"_Except for the disgusting amount of whipped cream on it!"_ her sister argues.

Swanning sticks out her tongue, then takes a sip of the milkshake. She looks totally blissed out at the treat. "So good," she mumbles. Swanning straightens up and waves at the camera. "Alright, folks. It's been fun, but I obviously have other business to attend to. So -"

Several dings of the chat draw her attention. There are a lot of frantic questions about how to get down from the temple and Swanning just laughs again.

"You'll figure it out," she tells the views. "Until next time, this is Swanning signing off!"

The live stream ends.

* * *

**A/N: Ah, milkshakes. I too could use a milkshake. Although, I think I have a new favorite B&J flavor - Netflix and Chilled is **_**ridiculously good**_ **if you can find it.**

**Also, if anyone got that this quest was inspired by Avatar: The Last Airbender, I'll love you forever. If you haven't seen ATLA, then it's on Netflix and **_**so much more**_ **than just a cartoon. It's terrific, totally worth your time. Netflix is also creating a live action adaptation made with the original ATLA characters and they have publically confirmed that they will cast culturally appropriate characters - so while we all love Jackson Rathbone, we don't be having that awful movie that none of us ever talk about, ever. **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, and stay smart. Keep wearing your masks, too!**

Also, start thinking about what you're going to do with your kids when it's time for school to start. Until we have a viable vaccine, online learning is the best way to protect the children, the teachers, the families, the janitors, the lunchladies, the bus drivers, and everyone else who is involved in brick-and-mortar education. More likely than not, you are in a state that has a contract with an online charter school, such as K12 (it operates in 29 states, plus DC), which has state-approved curriculum curated for all grades, with guided video teaching, online ebooks, weekly assignments and tests, and study materials; as far as I know, K12 also supplies free-of-charge laptops to all students. Provided you have a stable internet connection (and there are low-cost internet solutions from dozens of internet service providers, some of them with a free waiver for low-income families) there is no reason why your kids actually have to attend physical school this fall. Online charter schools means that parents don't have to become teachers, so it's worth looking into. Aside from that, also start advocating to your local school district about online learning from the district itself. Teachers and students don't need to be risking their lives and spreading the virus when we have technology and other options. While the research suggests that children don't get as sick and can't transmit as much, there _is _still a very real possibility that their developing bodies could suffer long-term health deficits from virus exposure, which is in-line with the pulmonary, cardiovascular, and renal damage for those who have survived the virus. Being flexible is an asset; there are always options, you just have to look for them. The REALLY GREAT NEWS is that Moderna, a pharmaceutical company developing a COVID vaccine, just had a successful phase one trial where all 45 participants developed antibodies; Moderna is now moving into larger trials and monitoring the health of the participants. Experts think that if Moderna's vaccine is viable it will be available to the public in about 1 year, which means we *possibly* have a light at the end of the tunnel.

**~Rae**


	52. chapter 23

**[chapter_23]**

Midnight Sun is doing well. Better than expected, even.

Masen has always been confident that he knows the best way to run this start-up. He hasn't doubted, not even for a second, that it was beyond his capabilities. He knows what he's doing. He knows what he wants. He knows how to achieve his goals. But all the same, when he was mapping out the possibilities of how things could go, he had erred on the side of caution; he knows that most start-ups fresh out of college don't boom into noteworthy businesses overnight, so he had been prepared to put in the time it takes to have success. Even factoring in the skills he's managed to cultivate and the aces he has on his team, Masen thought, at the very least, it would take a year to make any impressive strides.

It's very rare that Masen ever underestimates anything. And yet, with Midnight Sun, he had underestimated their success by a great margin. They have far exceeded any and all expectations he had set, and for that reason, he has had to move their goalposts closer. He knows that if they hadn't been in such a good place that he would have - albeit grudgingly - taken their name out of Volturi's hat.

But that is not the case. The fact is that Midnight Sun is one of the most promising new names in the industry, they are creating a reputation for being innovators, and they are in the exact kind of place that makes securing that Volturi contract a career-making move. If they get this, then Masen's days of using a silver tongue on investors will be long behind him.

They don't have the contract, yet. It's only just out of reach, the only barrier being a test of strength from Volturi. He understands their hesitation, to a point. Midnight Sun might be new, but Denali has tired ideas. Going with either of them is a gamble. It would be easier if Volturi would just develop the sequel game themselves, but Volturi has already promised the public that they are planning a collaboration, which Masen reads as a thinly-veiled vow to players that Volturi is searching for new ideas. After all, what's the point of a sequel if it's the same as the original game? If the goal is to improve the game with inventive ideas, then Midnight Sun is the obvious choice - they just need to prove, beyond a doubt, that they can deliver on their ideas.

Masen knows his team. He's reasonably sure they can. Already, he's seeing a wealth of creativity and progressiveness from the graphics department, in no small part thanks to Bella, who has proven to have the exact kind of enthusiasm for new ideas that is required to survive in this industry. Masen has been alternatively smug and awed by her these past several weeks. He'd known, of course, that she was talented and intelligent - but she proves herself to be uniquely capable each day, each time she humbly commands Alistair's respect, each time sweetly waylays Peter's unique personality, each time she approaches Emmett with new insights. She slots perfectly into Midnight Sun, filling in gaps they didn't know they had.

She slots perfectly into Masen's life, filling in gaps _he_ didn't know he had. It's a cliché to say she completes him, and yet it's true.

Masen is already devoted, wholly and completely. It makes him want nothing more than to see her happy and pleased, which is why the news of her birthday fills him with an uncharacteristic sense of anxiety.

He has to buy her a present. His girlfriend is turning twenty-one, her friends have organized a gathering, and he needs to buy her a present.

He had no idea what to buy, which is strange. Masen always knows what to do. He doesn't _hesitate_. He plans and waits for the right opportunity. He finds a solution. He researches. But now Masen is hesitating, there doesn't seem to be a good opportunity, he doesn't have a solution, and research has failed him. Planning dates is so much easier, he thinks, because Bella Swan is a humble, kind creature, easy to please and easy to be around.

Buying a present is more pressure than a date, however, partially because, as Peter continues reminding him, he will be giving this present in public, in front of all of their friends.

"You don't want to screw up," Peter says with a broad grin. "Don't, like, buy her socks. They're a shitty Christmas present and a shittier birthday present."

Masen knows Peter is lying about the socks, of course, because Peter wears those socks all the time. Peter is wearing those socks now, the TARDIS stamped right across his ankle as he wiggles around the bare floor. However, Peter might have a point. Socks probably isn't something that Masen should buy for his girlfriend. They are particularly romantic or indicative of his feelings for her.

Alistair and Emmett are somehow less helpful.

"Give her a gift card," Alistair suggests around a yawn. "Gift cards are great."

Masen frowns minutely, hiding the expression around his morning mug of coffee. They have all gathered in the downstairs kitchen, for no other reason than the best food is downstairs and they each plan on working on projects, even though it's the weekend. The topic of Bella's birthday came up because of a mass notification on Facebook.

Masen does not think gift cards are a great present for a girlfriend. They are impersonal, or something that you give at the last moment, or something you give because you know the receiver would rather have money. None of these reasons apply to this situation. Giving Bella a gift card is a hard no.

"Just buy something sparkly," Emmett says. "Girls like sparkly. Diamonds and shit."

Maybe, if this were another girl, Emmett's suggestion would have merit. However, Bella Swan is not just any girl. She doesn't seem to care for anything _sparkly_. No diamonds, no gemstones, no glitter.

In fact, she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry. Her ears are pierced, but she only wears studs; she will occasionally have a simple silver necklace with a small, flat medallion pendant on; he has seen her wear exactly one very thin band around her finger, which he suspects is because she prefers to have free range of motion for gaming, drawing, and programming. He also hasn't ever seen or heard her express any interest in jewelry, aside from Esme's engagement ring, which he doesn't think counts.

Masen sighs, long and drawn out, his brow furrowed.

None of these suggestions feel right for Bella.

He'll have to think on it more.

* * *

[Google Search]

_what to get your girlfriend for her birthday_

**DuduBro - Birthday Gifts**

Not sure what to get your girl on her birthday? Chill, dude. We have you covered. Here are the top gifts that are sure to show your girl you can be thoughtful when it counts!

**Top Gifts To Give Your Girlfriend On Her Birthday**

Clothes & Shoes & Accessories.

Birthday Week

Personalized Gifts

A Day At The Spa

Candy Bouquet

A Gift Basket

Tickets To A Play/Museum She Likes

A Photo Collage

* * *

Bella's birthday falls on a Saturday.

This is fortuitous, as the plans that have been made for her birthday - mostly by her sister and roommates, much to Bella's apparent dismay - all rely on a day after to recover from hangovers. Bella, in a fit of despair, had told him her sister had claimed the convenient days only proved that her plans were approved by fate itself. Masen had been amused to hear Bella grouse about how her sister must have made a deal with the devil for things to fall so neatly into place. He'd watched this new facet of Bella bloom, pouting and mildly disgruntled, and had been charmed by her dimensions.

Masen remembers his own twenty-first birthday. There had been two celebrations, one with the family and one engineered by his friends. The timing had been less than perfect, as Emmett and Peter had insisted on celebrating his birthday _on_ the actual day and had summarily dragged him to the nearest bar in the middle of summer classes, each of them sharing twenty-one shots between them. The next day had been a lunch with the family and Masen had been quieter than usual, nursing a painful hangover that was obvious only to Carlisle. Grandfather Cullen had been in fine form that day, too. Overall, Masen's own coming of age was decidedly less delightful than Bella's is promising to be, if not only because she doesn't have any caustic family members seeking to make the day as unpleasant as possible.

Masen is glad of this, of course. He only ever wants Bella happy.

It is, however, the first time he is officially meeting the people closest to her, a member of her family included, and he will not lie about it - he is somewhat nervous. Or maybe apprehensive is a better word. He understands that Bella puts some weight on what her best friends think, and they the same, and he wants his impression to be a good one, if only to make later, even more important, impressions easier later on.

Masen is planning for the future. Because that's what he wants, a future with Bella Swan. This birthday is just one of many steps to make that goal a reality. Hopefully, the present he got her will say the words he can't quite utter, yet.

Masen and the others leave at the same time, catching an Uber directly to the first bar on the list that has been shared to all of them. _Pub and Sundry_ is a neat bar just on the edges of Stanford proper, the place modeled after the pubs in Europe, all dark wood and yellow lighting, catering mostly to craft beers and a relaxed crowd. They get there a bit after Bella and her roommates, which is evident by the drinks already at the table they have commandeered.

For him, it is easy to find Bella in the moderately sized crowd. She stands out to him, her cinnamon hair twirled into a braid that crowns her head, tendrils tickling the lovely shape of her face. The low lighting limns her delicate features, darkening the olive shade of her eyes. She is beautiful, her eyes scrunched in laughter, an over-sized raspberry-hued shirt drooping off one shoulder, showing off a freckled knob of flesh he wants very desperately and very suddenly to kiss.

Masen dutifully reigns in his amorous desires, somewhat amazed, as he always is, by how prevalent they are. Bella Swan has unlocked bits and pieces of himself, feelings and thoughts and wants he didn't even know he had. Even now, his hands itch to touch her, to close around the now-familiar shape of her waist.

Masen's own roommates move ahead of him while he falls back, just for a moment, to double-check the slender box in his back pocket. He isn't obtuse enough to not know what jewelry boxes and special occasions might mean to some, but he also knows that _this_ box is thin, roughly the same size of his phone, and does not contain a ring.

A ring can be for another time.

Masen pats the box again and, reassured, follows along after his friends. Peter, naturally, is the first to reach the group of girls. Masen barely refrains from rolling his eyes as Peter yells out, arms spread wide to whack both Alistair and Emmett in the chest. Masen gives Peter a wide berth while Alistair mutters something about _blimey idiot_, rounding to Bella's side of the table with a warm, faint uptick of his lips, a smile reserved solely for her. She gifts him with a beaming, blossoming smile, her face already pink. His heart thuds and he leans down, brushing a kiss over the freckles on the apple of her cheeks.

"Hello," he says, voice just low enough so that she can hear him as he pulls back, still close to see the flecks of gold and umber amid all the green in her eyes. "Happy Birthday."

Bella turns into him, tilting her head back, a flower to the sun as she smiles softly, sweetly catching his hand and weaving their fingers together. She squeezes his hand and, with no small amount of relief, says, "I'm so glad you're here."

Masen makes a noise of interest and Bella knows him well enough to give additional information without any further prompting.

She heaves out a long, quiet sigh, then side-eyes her sister. "Leah is already driving me crazy."

Across the table, Bella's sister lets out an indignant shout. Leah Clearwater is recognizable to him both from her YouTube channel and from how often she appears on Bella's Twitter and Instagram pages. Leah is, by all means, a fairly attractive woman, with dark, deep-set eyes, smooth bronze skin, and the type of sharp bone structure that makes her as striking as the violently purple shade of her hair. Leah's keen eyes dart between Bella and Masen as she speaks, lingering on their intertwined hands, a dark brow arching up.

"Oh, am I annoying you?" Leah asks. She sips on the beer she is already nursing and gifts Masen with a challenging stare.

Ah. So that's how it is. Masen mentally rearranges his expectations for the night, dipping his chin to Leah in acknowledgement. He understands.

"Yes," Bella says, very emphatically, turning to stare at her sister with exasperation. "And you know you are because you're doing it on purpose!"

Leah scoffs with a facetiously haughty toss of her head. "I won't be accused of such a thing!" she declares.

This is said loud enough to draw attention away from the muted introductions made when friends of friends are introducing themselves to each other. All eyes, some with humor, turn on Leah and Bella and, subsequently, Masen. He does not miss the way Rose Hale smirks at him or the wide-eyed look Alice Brandon gives.

These girls see everything.

Alice Brandon, petite with dark hair and large eyes that dwarf the other features of her face, makes a confused noise, tilting her head at Leah and furrowing her brows. "But…You _were_ doing it on purpose," she says.

Rose Hale snorts. "Yes, she was," she agrees. As the tallest among the girls, Rose Hale is easily able to lean her elbow on Alice's shoulder, her blue eyes mocking amid the tumble of her blonde hair. "Because she's Leah and she knows no other way."

"Rude," Leah tells her, and there is a round of shared laughter. Leah huffs, clanking the bottom of her beer bottle on the table. "Look," she says hotly. "I'm the only one around to give a shovel talk, so forgive me if I want to make sure I get it right."

Bella wrinkles her nose. "Sure. But do you have to rehearse it?"

"Yes! How else am I supposed to memorize it?" Leah asks.

Bella laughs, one of the loudest laughs Masen has ever heard from her, and Masen thinks she is especially enchanting when she is free and relaxed. He feels himself softening, too, letting go of his apprehension.

It becomes obvious to him very quickly that these are truly interesting women and that the YouTube videos did not prepare him as much as he thought they would. It is one thing to watch the liveliness of a group on a screen and another entirely to be experiencing it himself. Not unlike his own friend group, Bella and the girls all have different personalities that perhaps shouldn't fit together, but do. While Bella is mellow, curious, and thoughtful, Leah is precocious and mirthful; where Alice is sweet and naïve, Rose is blunt, bold, and temperamental. It takes him only minutes of observing their quick back-and-forth to see where they balance each other out. He can see parallels with his own friends, too; Masen is cerebral and restrained; Peter is foolhardy and uninhibited; Alistair is sardonic and dry; Emmett is enthusiastic and jovial. The familiarity of it all makes it very easy to melt into the group, his arm around Bella's waist as they sit side-by-side at the low, somewhat sticky table.

There are some highlights in these first several minutes. Emmett, inexplicably, stammers around Rose to the point where Masen is mildly concerned he might have hit his head; Bella corrects this assumption by explaining that Emmett is Rose's Library Guy, and then it all makes sense. He does vaguely remember Emmett waxing poetic about some rose goddess - who is, as it turns out, actually a woman named Rose.

Then there is the way Alistair stares speculatively at all of them, hunched up like a hermit crab at the end of the table, narrowing his eyes at Leah when she passes him a bowl of shelled peanuts. Alistair takes one and passes the bowl back, only for Leah to take another and pass the bowl again. Neither Bella or Masen know what to make of it.

The least awkward are Alice and Peter, who engage in happy chatter that doesn't seem to have any real direction. Listening to the two of them almost reminds him of the friendship building interactions on the Sims. _I like pop music. I like pop music too! Yellow is a happy color. Sunshine and bumblebees!_ At least they both seem satisfied with the conversation.

After several minutes, Leah turns back to Bella. "You know, you still haven't had a drink." Leah eats another peanut. Her beer bottle is already empty.

Bella makes a face. "You know," she says at length. "I don't really need one."

To Masen's ears, it already sounds like an old disagreement, albeit one with playful undertones.

Rose, with the air of someone grateful to have _anything else to do_, calls out, "That's nonsense! Of course you do! You can drink legally now, so what's your excuse?"

"Peer pressure isn't a good thing," Bella says.

Alice leans forward. "But this is friendly peer pressure!"

"That's not a thing," Alistair mutters. "I, however, could use a drink…"

"Yeah, yeah!" Peter agrees, completely ignoring him. "Join the crowd, Bella!"

"It's just one drink," Rose says. "How about this. We'll order one for you, you can take one sip, and then we'll finish it in your honor."

Bella looks like she's considering this.

Leah has a similar expression on her face. "This is an acceptable alternative, I think."

"If Bella doesn't want to drink-drink, then she shouldn't have to," Alice agrees.

"But a sip is just a sip, so it's not even really a drink!" Peter adds.

"I-I like Rosie - I-I mean R-Rose's idea!" Emmett manages, redder in the face than he ever has been.

Bella wilts. "Alright, fine. One sip."

"That's my girl!" Leah exclaims, slipping out of her seat with a victorious shimmy. She gets two steps away from the table before she turns back and pins Masen with an expectant share that makes him feel rather resigned to his fate. "Hey, Masen. You should come with me to pick one out. We have to make sure Bella's first legal taste of alcohol is good, right? You look like you would know."

It's a very obvious ploy, so he already knows what's coming when he agrees. It does make him wonder, however, if he really does look like someone who knows about alcohol, and if he does, then is that something he should change before he meets the parents? More likely than not, however, Leah is needling him on purpose, which is why he lets the implied insult roll off his shoulders.

Bella is reluctant to release his hand, holding his in both of hers. She can also see what Leah is aiming at. "You don't have to go," she tells him seriously. "You can just ignore her."

Masen extracts his hand, brushing an errant tendril of hair out of her eyes. "She's your family," he says quietly. "It's the least I can do."

He means this, no matter how awkward Leah's shovel talk becomes or how much she grills him. And she _does_ grill him, squeezing in more pointed questions in the few minutes they are waiting at the bar than he thought possible. What's his home life like? Does he have any felonies? What are his bad habits? Does he know Bella's father is a police chief? What are his intentions? It goes on and he answers them all honestly, and then more quickly when Leah starts a rapid-fire round of the things Bella likes. What's her favorite food, movie, color, flower? What's her life goal? What's her top three aspirations? Does he know about Bella's complicated family; if he does, then explain it. Leah treats it as a pop quiz, getting all of the multiple-choice questions out of the way before she starts in on the short answers.

"Hey."

Masen waits patiently.

Leah narrows her eyes, looking at him critically, searching for a chink in his armor. "I've heard a lot about you, pretty boy," Leah says flatly. She sighs, folding her arms across her chest. "Bella seems to like you and she's a good judge of character, usually, so that's a point in your favor. By all accounts, you're a good partner for her." Leah pauses, seeming to gather her thoughts. "Bella isn't…You know, she's kind and tolerant and has a generally positive world view, so maybe she isn't looking for any red flags. But I am because she's my sister and even if I don't give a shit about anyone else's problems or interfering in hers where I'm not needed, I'm still paying attention. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes."

Leah lifts a brow. "And what do you think about it?"

"I'm gratified to know Bella is so cared for," Masen answers simply.

Leah squints at him. "That's it."

"Mm."

Incredulity slips into her tone, and it seems like she can't decide whether she's incensed or impressed that he is handling her so placidly. "No defensiveness?" she demands. "No promises to never hurt her?"

"I can't promise that," Masen says solemnly.

Leah draws herself up. "So, what, you _plan_ to hurt her?"

"No, of course not," Masen tells her. "But the future is unpredictable, and hurt is subjective."

Leah spends a good few minutes processing this, her arms falling to her sides. "You know, that sounds like a line."

"Perhaps," he agrees. "But it isn't."

Leah scoffs. "Alright, so you're a smooth talker. Whatever. I don't see anything wrong with you. Yet. But," she says warningly. "Remember that Bella has people! And these people are watching you!"

Masen dips his head.

The toe of Leah's docs tap against the floor. "Good. Glad we're agreed. Now, buy me a drink," she orders briskly. "And one for Bella, too."

Masen is wise enough to follow her orders. He refreshes Leah's Guinness and orders a Washington Apple for Bella, thinking she will enjoy the tart-sweetness for the one sip she has agreed to take. And she does, her face smoothing out from anticipatory dislike into something surprised; she licks her lips, processing the smoothness of the whiskey and cranberry juice and apple schnapps even as she passes the drink to her friends, who each take sips until the glass is empty.

"Not bad," she concludes. "Maybe I'll get that at the next bar."

"Oh, so _now_ you want to drink?" Leah barks out a laugh. "What did I tell you? He looks like he knows his alcohol. It's a good skill, right?"

Ah. So she had meant it as a compliment, of sorts. In that case, he's definitely been overthinking things. It's the nerves; this type of overthinking is very unlike him. Bella Swan has well and truly changed him in ways he could never anticipate.

Bella nudges him, catching his eye. "You're being quiet," she observes.

He quirks a brow.

"Quieter than usual," she amends, her voice only just audible over the din of the bar.

Masen can clearly see the edge of worry pinching at her eyes and guesses that his Bella is concerned about what her sister might have said to him. He ducks into her space, close enough that her green eyes almost cross to keep eye contact with him. "I'm fine," he tells her. "Our friends are a lot."

Bella lightens, humor entering her eyes. "They all do seem to get along," she agrees, glancing around them. Peter and Emmett have gotten shots from somewhere and are letting Leah goad them into seeing who can drink the most while Rose heckles them, and Alice has engaged Alistair in polite conversation about, of all things, the latest British fashion, which Alistair answers only somewhat reluctantly.

Something about Bella's tone, however, clues him into her surprise of this fact. "Were you concerned they wouldn't?" he asks, draping his arm over the back of her chair.

Bella leans into the contact, turning into him. "Not really. But I didn't expect them to get along so well, either." Bella pauses, watching as Leah and Peter high-five over his victory. "They're all very friendly, even Alistair."

"Mm." He drags his thumb over her bare shoulder. "Is it not a good thing?"

"Oh, it's fine!" she says quickly. "But I think maybe you don't understand the potential chaos."

Masen hums questioningly.

"You've probably noticed that Leah has a penchant for causing trouble, right? She earned those skills growing up, because the La Push boys, our friends on the Res, would eat her alive if she couldn't keep up….I'm sensing a very similar energy, here."

He knows Bella is expressing some trepidation - likely mostly because mischievousness rises infrequently in her - but he can't help but fixate on the other thing she has said. About boys she grew up with. It's incredibly irrational, and he acknowledges this, but there is a stirring of jealousy at the fondness in her voice, her expression. She cares about those La Push boys. Masen, selfishly, wants to be the only man she cares about. Very irrational. Masen is above such base ideas. He has no interest in possessing another person, even the person he cares very deeply for. He will not be that man.

"You see trouble," Masen surmises and Bella nods.

"Oh, from a while away," she says wryly.

"Mm."

Bella sits up straighter, her gaze catching on the upward curve of his lips. "You think it's funny?" she demands.

"It could be amusing," he says placidly.

"Masen!"

He laughs quietly, only just under his breath, catching her hand when she huffs and pokes his abdomen and tells him he's going to rue this day. This sense of lightness follows as they move on to another bar, this one a bit further from campus, one called _The Two Shot_ that has a distinctly more rowdy feel to it and seems to specialize in neon drinks. Masen and Bella walk hand-in-hand between the crush of their friends, easing up to the bar to get something sour for Bella and something on the rocks for Masen, for the sake of participation. Bella likes this drink less than the first and quickly passes it off to Peter, who makes a grand show complaining about how it takes like _a Warhead and vodka had a baby_.

It's at this bar that Bella goes out of her way to introduce Rose Hale to Masen in a professional sense. Emmett, naturally, is trailing behind Rose with his mouth agape at the apparent sheer wonder of her, something that Rose ignores blithely.

"Rose was wondering if you need an investment manager," Bella says after Masen has matched Rose's firm handshake. Apparently, Rose's main professional goal is to be an investment manager when she graduates with her Economics degree, and while she has a desire to work mainly with non-profit organizations, she recognizes the need to have some experience. Both Bella and Rose have seen an opportunity worth exploring, as Bella indicates when she says, "Midnight Sun has a lot to deal with right now, right? Rose could help."

Masen considers it, running through how such assistance would give him more time to focus on finishing the final optimization of Menagerie and get more progress with his portion of the Volturi demo. He's grown very tired of dealing with investors and while Emmett is gifted in the financial management of the company, his specialty is in engineering mathematics for computer software. As of right now, pressed as they are by the ambitions of their plans and the relatively short timeline, they could use all the help they can get. He's certain there's room in the budget for another intern, but the decision isn't only up to him.

"Ask our CFO," he tells them.

Bella immediately looks to Emmett, and Rose soon follows, giving Emmett an expectant, if not demanding, stare while Emmett blushes to the roots of his hair under her direct attention.

"Help me," he blurts out. A moment later he looks like he would prefer the ground to swallow him whole. "I mean, yes. C-come help me. Us. Help us."

Rose lifts her chin haughtily. "You do look like you need help."

Bella bites her lip, stifling a giggle.

"Come in with Bella when you're free," Masen says. "Emmett can show you the ropes."

Emmett throws him a glance that is part incredulity and part eagerness, with a dash of betrayal thrown in. Masen blinks at him, very much aware that he is essentially throwing Emmett into the fire. But how else is he going to learn how to form sentences around this girl?

"Oh! You can come in with Alice next Friday!" Bella says to Rose. Then she looks at Masen. "I did tell you about wanting to bring Alice in for a consult, right? We could use some help with the clothes design."

"Mm."

Bella beams at him.

Rose and Emmett linger near the table, mostly because Rose wants to engage Bella in teasing banter about being a real adult now and _How does it feel to no longer be the baby of the group_ and the like. Masen observes it silently, slowly draining his glass with careful, slow sips, mindful of his own resolution to not drink too much tonight. He wants to be fully aware later. He has plans.

By the time they reach the third bar, which has a more club-like feel than the first two, only Bella and Masen are mostly sober. Any tipsiness Bella has is quickly wearing off as Masen plies her with plenty of water. Interestingly, it seems like Leah and Rose are able to hold their alcohol better than most every one else, excluding Alistair, who had said disparaging things about American alcohol and had refused to participate on principle. It's probably a good thing, as he winds up being the one to look after a giggling Alice with a sort of resigned, long-suffering patience and the air of someone who would rather be home alone or sleeping. Alice, at the very least, is easy to deal with, chattering away non-sensically. It's a great comparison to Emmett, who alternates between mooning over Rose and trying to impress her by multiplying large sums. He gets most of them right in spite of his inebriated state.

And then there is Peter.

K.O., who had shown up late after closing his food truck down for the night, has been shadowing Peter from the start, regularly stopping Peter from falling over or bumping into people. K.O. is an interesting person, too. If possible, he's more taciturn than Masen and twice as unapproachable, the only exceptions being Bella, who it is impossible to be rude to, and Peter, for obvious reasons. This skill comes in handy now, as even the people annoyed by Peter's exuberance do not dare say anything because of K.O.s foreboding nature. Peter takes full advantage of this, because he is Peter and that is what Peter does.

"Let's having it for the reigning beauty queen! Happy Birthday to the campus beauty!" Peter crows, holding a fruity drink complete with a little umbrella in the air. He stumbles and K.O. stops him from falling with one firm hand on his hips. "Thanks, dude," Peter slurs, happy drunk that he is. K.O. looks down at him, brow furrowed, and says nothing.

Their friends, and several strangers around them, cheer and clap at Peter's announcement.

Bella groans, leaning heavily against Masen's sigh. "Not that stupid contest again."

"Oh, yes," Leah says gleefully. She fumbles with her phone to show Bella the screen, where the Cardinal Trees blog is pulled up with the results of the beauty contest bold on the page. "I didn't even have to submit your name this time!"

"I knew it was you!" Bella accuses, stabbing a finger at her sister.

Leah adopts a mock-innocent expression. "What was me?

"Leah!"

"Lee-Man!" Peter calls out, still hanging off of K.O. "Let It Lee, I have a question for you!"

"Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater!" Leah returns.

"Let There Lee Light!"

"Nice To Pete You!"

"Woe Is Lee!"

"Six Pete Under!"

"Little Bird Told Lee"

"Let Them Pete Cake!"

"Oh, my God," Bella says, horrified. "Someone, anyone, make them stop."

Masen smothers his laughter.

"They're so drunk," Bella whispers to Masen. "How can they keep coming up with these puns? And why do they sound like they already know each other?"

Masen shrugs, wrapping both arms around her waist securely, his chin on her shoulder. The floor beneath their feet thumps with the vibration of loud music. Masen lets it all wash over him, feeling calm and anticipatory and more than a little entertained.

"Far Lee It From Me," Peter chortles. "But I - I have a question! An important question! A question about a-a thing that's important."

"What a lightweight," Rose mutters. When K.O. looks at her sharply, she looks distinctly unimpressed and finishes off her drink. Emmett takes the glass before she can set it down, hugging it to his chest. Rose rolls her eyes.

"What's your question?" Bella prompts hurriedly. "Peter?"

"Bella, Bella Belladise," Peter sing-songs. "I watched your last Twitch with, ah, with Al over there. And I need to know, I need The Last Lee Standing to tell me where she got those milkshakes! I need a milkshake too! Garrett, Garrett. I need a milkshake!"

"I will get you one," K.O. tells him.

Peter hugs him, smiling brightly, totally unfocused as he turns to Leah again. "Lee At Last, tell me where we can get those shakey shakes!"

Leah makes a face, swaying a little. "I won't tell you for free. What're you going to give me?"

Peter pouts. "I'll, uh, I'll sic Garrett on you! Don't test me!"

Leah laughs and laughs. "Oh, Pete Your Hands Up, your hulking himbo doesn't scare me!"

Peter immediately looks outraged. "He scares everyone!" Peter says defensively.

"He doesn't scare me," Alistair mumbles, slinking into a nearby chair.

"Did someone say something about a bee?" Alice wonders. Of them all, she probably got drunk the quickest; Bella has been keeping an eye on her since the last bar.

"I'll be your friend!" Emmett says earnestly to Rose and Rose tells him, very plainly, that she does not want that.

"I want cake," Bella says abruptly, twisting her neck to stare up at him in a clear search of an excuse, any excuse, to get some space from their drunk friends. "Can we get cake? And get these guys home?"

"Mm. Good idea."

It takes some measure of wrangling to get every one sobered up enough to be aware enough to get home safely. They leave the bar and track down the nearest fast food joint, ordering a tray of greasy curly fries to soak up some of the alcohol.

"Bell Bell, how did you like the drinks?" Leah asks around a mouthful of fries.

"Oh! I want to know too!" Peter pushes, jostling K.O. in his excitement. K.O. remains stoic, stirring mustard and ketchup together for Peter's share of food, shaking in a little packet of pepper, then sliding the concoction to Peter.

Masen watches this impassively, aware of Peter's complete obliviousness in the face of K.O.'s attention. If there ever does come a time when Peter realizes the obvious flirtation he engages in, not to mention K.O.'s blatant favoritism, then Masen's only hope is that he is not there to personally witness it, if for no other reason than Peter is utterly shameless and K.O. will be the very last person to stop Peter from doing _anything._ It's enough of a challenge to witness this and not say anything.

Looking at Emmett and Alistair, they are having similar struggles.

Masen will not be the first one to break.

Bella wrinkles her nose. "They were _fine_, I guess. But clearly an acquired taste. The first one was the best, though," she finishes, flashing Masen a smile across the table. "I didn't mind that one."

"I wonder why," Rose remarks wryly, dragging a fry through ketchup.

"Yeah, me too," Emmett agrees, although there is no clear sense he knows what anyone is talking about. He is dazed and clearly drunk, either on the alcohol or on Rose Hale.

"It's because of the cranberry and apple!" Alice decides. "Right?"

Leah pats her head. "Yes, sweet Alice, it's because of the fruit and has nothing at all to do with who ordered it." And then she winks at Bella, who blushes prettily and avoids looking at Masen.

He tries not to feel too smug.

Alistair glares at all of them, scoops up a quarter of the fries, and proceeds to ignore them until it's time to leave.

Masen pays and when it seems like everyone's sense is returning, he orders a Lyft to take Bella's roommates back to campus and another car for himself and Bella, leaving getting Peter and Emmett home to K.O. and Alistair. Bella gives everyone a hug before they leave and accepts their well-wishes with pink cheeks and awkward grace.

In the car, Bella stretches her hand across the back seat to play with his hand, curling her fingers around his knuckles and measuring their palms against each other. "Speaking of Twitch," she starts conversationally, giving him a small smile. "My last stream did give me an idea. I know we plan to make most surfaces actionable, but shouldn't we also explore different movements? Or make them more organic?"

It's an idea Masen has been considering himself, actually, and Bella bringing it up, on her birthday no less, tells him that they are on the same wavelength in so many ways. In that moment, he wants desperately to kiss her, to show his appreciation, which he does not quite have the words to communicate. Fortunately, they are the first to arrive back at his building, which means they can quietly take the stairs to his loft and gain some privacy.

As Bella toes off her shoes and shuffles to his couch, sitting down in exhausted heap, Masen tracks over to his refrigerator, pulling out a small German chocolate cake he had bought earlier in the day. He pries off the plastic lid, collects two forks, pulls the box out of his back pocket, and takes a seat right next to Bella, their thighs and knees lined up.

Bella's eyes light up at the sight of the cake. "You got me a cake?"

"Mmhm."

She smiles glowingly at him, and then curious eyes fall on the box still in his hand. He can almost hear her breath catch. "Is that…?"

"Happy Birthday," he murmurs, passing the smooth black velvet box to her.

Bella hesitates to open the box for only a moment, and when she does, she inhales deeply. "Oh, Masen…" She takes a silver cuff bracelet, its width no more than a quarter of an inch, out of the box, running her hand over the inscription of numbers. "Thank you," she says sincerely. And then, with a slightly furrowed brow, "Is this binary code?"

He'd been banking on her ability to recognize binary at a glance and he is gratified to learn she at least knows what the code is, if not what the message reads.

"Mm."

"What does it say?" she asks, olive eyes wide, a flush creeping along the tops of her cheeks.

"You'll figure it out," he tells her.

Bella bites her lip, putting it on and admiring the way it sits on her dainty wrist. "I can't believe your lovely gift also means I have homework," she says teasingly.

Masen is confident she will be able to translate the message on her own, given enough time. It's not a complicated phrase - and if he tells her now, it takes the romance out of the declaration. His Bella is smart. She'll get there.

01101001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101

Still, in response to her teasing, he can only smirk. "Some homework is good for you."

She pouts at him playfully and he is so, so endeared that the thin thread of restraint he keeps uncoils, just a bit.

He leans in, cupping her cheek, tilting her face to a better angle so he can capture her lips in a slow, languid sort of kiss that only hints at the heat that simmers in his blood. She responds eagerly to his attention, skimming her tongue across his bottom lip, gasping when he nips and deepens the kiss. They kiss for some time, indulging in the closeness, and although Masen desires more - he's had a taste of other ways to expression passions now and he would like another - he is still satisfied with just this. She might not be drunk and she may be mostly sober, but now isn't the right time. He can be patient about this, just as he has been patient about other things. It is enough to kiss her until her lips are shining and swollen. For tonight, it's enough.

Masen pulls back, regaining his breath. "Cake," he says, drinking in Bella's kiss-ravished appearance.

She nods jerkily, her eyes limpid and dazed. "Please," she agrees breathily, taking the fork that is offered to her and pulling the cake closer on his coffee table. The prospect of food seems to clear her muddled mind a little, although he does not miss the fine tremble of her hand as her fork cuts through the pecan frosting and chocolate cake. She takes a bite, makes a happy little noise, and declares, somewhat shyly, "This is the best birthday I've ever had."

Masen smiles softly and accepts the bite of cake she offers to him, holding the fork to his mouth, her hand cupped underneath to catch any crumbs, studying the pink hue still staining her skin and the brightness of her eyes.

He hopes she can say the same for her future birthdays, as well.

He intends to be there for every one of them.

* * *

**Turing Is Our Hero (Group Chat)**

Peter Panda  
I am so  
Fucking  
Hungover

Em Likes Pi  
Big mood  
Huge mood

Squidward  
Pathetic

Em Likes Pi  
Um fucking what

Squidward  
Weaklings

Peter Panda  
UH  
I SEEM TO RECALL  
Someone  
NOT DRINKING LAST NIGHT  
And that SOMEONE  
Can stfu

Squidward  
Is it my fault you can't hold  
your liquor

Em Likes Pi  
Yes

Peter Panda  
Why do you say it like I did  
something I will regret  
Did I do something weird

Em Likes Pi  
Don't you always?

Peter Panda  
Now is not the time Em!  
We're talking about smth  
important!  
Al!  
Al what did I do!?

Squidward  
You mean aside from  
throwing up on Em's shoes?

Em Likes Pi  
Wait that was Peter?!  
I thought I did that!

Squidward  
You vomited because he did

Em Likes Pi  
That would explain the 2  
different colors...

Peter Panda  
God I have good aim

Em Likes Pi  
I will kill you  
Painfully  
To death

Peter Panda  
Bring it on  
I aint scared

Em Likes Pi  
Oh what  
because KO will protect you?

Peter Panda  
Obviously  
(Gif Attachment: Severus Snape  
drawling _Obviously_)  
Garrett knows how to treat me!  
Unlike you two!

Squidward  
So many things I can say  
And yet

Em Likes Pi  
Another big mood Al

Peter Panda  
So aside from the shoes  
Was there anything else

Squidward  
None worth mentioning

Peter Panda  
I'm suspicious  
But I'm gonna let it go  
My head hurts too much

Em Likes Pi  
Thank fuck its Sunday  
A day for recovery  
And sleep

Squidward  
Lol

Peter Panda  
What

Squidward  
I guess you haven't  
checked your email

Em Likes Pi  
Oh for the love of Einstein  
Really

Peter Panda  
_Mad Hatter  
_Hey _Mad Hatter  
_Why do you want us to die?

Em Likes Pi  
Mase we can see that you've  
read these  
Face us like a man!

Mad Hatter  
Busy

Em Likes Pi  
Yeah, busy draining our youth!  
Whats with this email?

Mad Hatter  
We need to have a meeting

Peter Panda  
Yeah okay but why  
That's what Mondays are for

Squidward  
I already tried this  
it does not work

Mad Hatter  
Monday is the company meeting  
We need a preemptive one  
I'll see you in 2 hours

Squidward  
See

Peter Panda  
Man this isn't fair!  
Shouldn't you be in a better mood?!

Mad Hatter  
I am in a good mood

Em Likes Pi  
I want to cry  
And die  
His good moods are never good for us

Peter Panda  
Mase  
Your wires need to be checked!  
Sunday is the day of rest!

Mad Hatter  
(_Read at 11:33AM)_

Peter Panda  
And he's back to ignoring us

Squidward  
Told you

Em Likes Pi  
Fuuuuuuuuck  
Does anyone have aspirin?

Peter Panda  
I got you

Em Likes Pi  
Well  
It's the least you can do  
Considering my shoes

Peter Panda  
Fair enough

* * *

Monday comes, bringing with it a sense of accomplishment and focus. Masen had spent the day before corralling Emmett, Peter, and Alistair into the finalized planning stages of what Midnight Sun intends to do for the Volturi demo. Masen had wanted everything prepared and fully laid out, certain that the entire company has had enough time to brainstorm all the different ideas they wish to incorporate. Being the founders of the group, Masen is intent on giving their employees a united front and a clear goal; the fact that this was done despite two whining hangovers and Alistair's general dislike of mornings only proves that Masen chose the right business partners.

His time with Bella on Saturday night, although chaste, had resolved Masen's ambitions. He has placed roots and he does not intend to deviate from them.

Fully resolved, he stands at the head of their conference room and waits for Alistair to finish distributing the department-specific plans that were printed the day before. The first pages are all the same, a detailed outline of the final plans and all the ideas that have been accepted, followed by the specific assignments for each department. The work is fairly evenly distributed, although Masen expects that he will be pulling overtime to make sure the rough edges are all smooth and polished. He doesn't mind. They need this contract.

"A few of you will be in charge of beta testing and finishing Menagerie to prepare it for official launch in October," Masen announces. "As for the rest, put your entire attention on the Volturi demo. We need flawless work from every department to make this work. Deadlines are non-negotiable."

Gazing over the room, Masen is satisfied that the majority of the employees are determined rather than put-off by the amount of work they now have to complete. The selection process for the Midnight Sun employees had been rigorous for this reason; Masen wanted more than talent, he wanted a team that had the drive to be part of something larger. Masen hired game-changers and rule-breakers. He hired those who could match his own ambitions. Now more than ever, that ability to meet demands will be vital to moving forward.

"Work hours will be extended by one hour each day," he continues. "Of course, you will be compensated for this, and for any overtime you require to meet your deadlines."

He pauses, surveying the room again, hands folded behind his back. Most seem pleased at the promise of more money, if not exactly thrilled that their work ours have just changed for the foreseeable future. It's irrelevant if they are happy or not; Masen and Emmett have both crunched the numbers and he knows that Midnight Sun offers a wage that is competitive to other gaming companies. Midnight Sunners are smart enough to know a good deal when they see it. He doesn't see any problems down the line because of this, or the demands of the projects.

"Are there any questions?" he asks the room at large.

Perhaps predictably, Peter's hand shoots up, and he speaks with both a nervous tone and an impish expression. "Uh, can I please not have so much work?"

"Request denied," Masen says swiftly.

Peter sputters. "You didn't even think about it!" he cries. "Did everyone else see that? Did you see? This is what it's like now!"

"Isn't it always like this?" someone asks.

"Yes," Alistair drones tonelessly. "Peter is simply dramatic."

Before Peter can snap in the genuine outrage he is building, Masen interjects. "You're all dismissed. Contact me or your department heads for clarification. Deadlines are reviewed each Monday. Get to work."

"Aye, aye!"

"You got it, Boss!"

"You heard the bossman!"

Masen waits until everyone has filtered out of the conference room before he flips through the project folder one more time. There is a lot of work, a considerable amount of nuanced coding, and innovative ideas that will be pushing the limits of the technology available to them.

But he is confident in his team - and he has been proving people wrong since childhood.

He relishes this challenge.

* * *

This Is Really Masen  
Traffic looks bad  
I might be late

The Missus  
That's fine  
We can game another night  
Will you be okay at the dinner?

This Is Really Masen  
He's run out of things to say  
I'll be fine

The Missus  
Text me when its over?

This Is Really Masen  
I will

The Missus  
:)

* * *

By the virtue of having a new company to run and recovering from a car accident, Masen has been able to get out of the last few monthly family dinners. He is not so fortunate this time. It's only the fact that he misses seeing his parents that he agrees to let Carlisle drive them up to San Francisco, mentally preparing his defenses against the inevitable vitriol that will come from Grandfather Cullen's mouth. He is also here to support Carlisle, who has been spending more time on his residency than he has learning the ropes of the business, something which is not pleasing to the patriarch of the family. Masen had missed the last dinner, which is when Carlisle announced his engagement, and he is certain that fall-out still needs to be dealt with.

Masen thinks about all of this and wishes the drive was longer - or better yet, that he was home or with Bella or even just having dinner with his family sans Grandfather Cullen. But that is not reality.

Masen and Carlisle exchange resigned glances when the maid lets them inside, and then they walk in together, not unlike two soldiers going to war.

The pre-dinner drinks, taken across mahogany couches and a room of gold-plated mirrors, are tense. But then again, they always are. Grandfather Cullen swirls whiskey around a crystal glass, one of dozens that can be immediately replaced if dropped or - memorably - thrown at walls. Anne drinks white wine, Thomas takes gin, and Carlisle and Masen drink nothing. The subject of the engagement is brought up and Grandfather Cullen mutters something uncharitable under his breath, which is as much as anyone expects; it does not, however, take away from the genuine joy Carlisle expresses or Anne's enthusiasm as she gushes about the wedding plans she and Esme are already making.

The wedding talk continues into dinner, likely because it's the least offensive topic available. Masen and Thomas do not contribute, but that is normal, as Anne and Carlisle usually do the heavy-lifting of maintaining a lighter atmosphere at these dinners.

The first course is served, a salad with arugula, shaved parmesan, and a lemony vinaigrette, and Anne tells them that a spring wedding would be lovely, because Esme's favorite flowers will be in bloom, and that means they have already decided on the color theme for the wedding. Anne thinks a hyacinth bouquet will be beautiful.

The second course is a plank-seared salmon over buttery potatoes, and Masen eats quietly, listening as Thomas injects a question about the guest list. Carlisle says Esme wants to keep it small, friends, coworkers, and family, and Thomas points out that there are several business associates that will need to be invited for the sake of Cullen business holdings. Here, Grandfather Cullen interjects something that sounds like a passable compliment to Thomas' foresight.

By the third course, a butternut squash soup, Masen almost thinks that this dinner is one of the more pleasant ones he has attended, even despite the tension running beneath every word that passes through the air. Talking about the upcoming wedding seems to be a good strategy. But of course, that's a topic that can only last so long, and by the time everyone finishes their soup, the threat of silence crawls through the room.

Silence is not good. Silence is an opportunity to break the peace.

And that is why Masen is not surprised - although certainly not pleased, either - when his mother turns to him and asks about Bella.

"How is that darling girl? I've seen Bella on campus in passing a few times. She seems to be taking several classes," Anne says, sitting back while one of the maids takes her plate.

"Five this quarter," Masen replies.

"Oh, but isn't that too much?" Anne frets.

Masen represses his smile, along with the urge to point out that he regularly took five courses, too. He takes it as an excellent sign that Anne seems to like Bella so much already. That's good. He can make that work for his future plans. "She's managing," Masen tells her.

It's a mistake. He knows it as soon as the words pass his mouth - he knows because it's right there in his tone, the extent of his affection audible to the entire dining room. Carlisle and Thomas smile and Anne immediately looks wistful, but it's Grandfather Cullen he pays attention to. Because Grandfather Cullen stops dabbing at his mouth and his cold eyes rise, looking at Masen directly for the first time the entire evening.

Masen's hands close into fists beneath the table, safely out of view. He has the eerie sensation of walking across a frozen lake that has already begun to crack. A single misstep will send him crashing into frozen water.

And the problem is that the misstep has already happened. The ice is already thinned. Grandfather Cullen is already waiting to sow discord.

Masen had told Bella that Grandfather Cullen has long-since run out of things to say, and it's true. He hopes she will never understand the extent of the way Grandfather Cullen has twisted words into knives and inured Masen to poisonous slights. He will protect her from this for as long as he can, just as Carlisle protects Esme.

But while Grandfather Cullen may have run out of ammunition against Masen, personally, that does not mean that Masen is safe when a new target is presented to him. And his mother has unwittingly just found the perfect target.

He braces himself for the inevitable.

Anne is still smiling at him with shining, hopeful eyes. "Will I be planning another wedding soon?"

"It is getting serious," Masen admits honestly, watching the tiger in the room out of the corner of his eye. "But it's too soon to talk about a wedding."

Grandfather Cullen grumbles and huffs, tossing his cloth napkin onto the table. "I won't be paying for the orphan's wedding to some backwater gold digger," he says venomously. "The only girl who would want this urchin is one who lays with trash, and I will not have the Cullen name tainted by-"

Masen is standing before he even realizes it, his chair skidding off the Persian rug and scrapping across the polished hardwood floor with the force of his movement. "Shut. Up." Masen hisses between clenched teeth.

Anne gasps and Thomas reaches out to still her before she can try to keep the peace. Carlisle freezes.

Grandfather Cullen sneers up at him. "What did you say to me, urchin?"

Masen draws himself up to his full height and glares down his nose. "I said, _shut up_," he repeats, threading as much loathing into his tone as he can. His heart is racing in time with the furious beat of his anger. "You can say anything you want about me, but you will not breathe a word about Bella, you pathetic geriatric asshole."

Grandfather Cullen's nostrils flare and he stands up, leaning heavily on the table, supported by the slap of his palms against the tablecloth. "You stray dog," Grandfather Cullen jeers, curling his lip. "You better watch how you speak to me, or-"

"Or _what_?" Masen demands hotly. "You have given me nothing that you can take away. All you can do is wither in your ivory tower and wait to die -"

"You will never amount to anything!" Grandfather Cullen shouts. "You are trash! You are a stain on this family!"

Masen scoffs, lifts an eyebrow. "Watch me," he says.

And then he walks out, ignoring the chaos he leaves behind him - the words Grandfather Cullen yells, the way Thomas and Anne rush to Masen's defense, the shatter of fine glass. None of it matters. Masen, who can summon endless patience, has finally run out and met his limit. He will tolerate anything, except for Bella being targeted by a hateful mouth.

Masen is barely out the door before Carlisle snags him by the elbow.

"Wait for me," his brother pants, reaching for his keys. Carlisle's steady surgeon hands are shaking, the keys tumbling to the stone driveway. He stoops to scoop them up and then turns wide blue eyes onto Masen, distinctly incredulous. "I can't believe you did that. Or said that."

"He deserved it."

Carlisle nods. "Well, yeah," he agrees. "But you _actually_ said it. Out loud."

Masen stares at him flatly.

Carlisle looks away. "Just because we're all thinking it, doesn't mean anyone should actually say it."

"I fail to see why not."

Carlisle falters. "Because we should respect our elders?"

"Not if our elders don't respect us," Masen disagrees, walking to Carlisle's car, tension still strung through his spine. "Respect is earned. At a point, aside from the valuation of human life, respect not something that should be given by rote. He has done very little to earn mine - or anyone's - respect."

Carlisle sighs. "You might as well just call him a mean old bastard and be done with it," he says, unlocking the car door and climbing inside.

Masen follows suit and waits until he is buckled in to say, "He's a mean old bastard."

Carlisle's laugh is strained, as is the drive home. Unlike before, there is no traffic, so the drive itself is short, but Masen can tell they are both ruminating on all the ways Grandfather Cullen had made their childhood difficult - always drawing a comparison between them, always placing Carlisle on a pedestal and reminding Masen that he belongs beneath them with the rest of the dirt, always trying to stoke resentment between them. It's frankly a miracle that their bonds of brotherhood have not been diminished, that they have managed to stay so close in spite of all of it. Much of that credit goes to their parents, of course, and the efforts they made to neutralize any of the poison Grandfather Cullen tried to feed them.

But all the same, there are times when Masen wishes it were different. He might have been hardened by this treatment, he may have learned how to steel his will and his ambition because of this, but how different would he be if Thomas and Anne had stepped in while he was still a child? If they had spoken against Grandfather Cullen instead of trying to keep the peace? Where would he be? Where would Carlisle be?

Masen will never know. What-if scenarios are pointless, because this is the only reality he has.

Grandfather Cullen really is a mean old bastard.

"Does Bella know?" Carlisle asks at one point. "About…all of that?"

"Does Esme?" Masen counters.

Carlisle presses his lips together. "She knows enough," he says, fingers tightening on the wheel. "Most everything, really."

"Bella knows some," Masen says. He'd kept the details brief, not wanting to visit the subject at all beyond the fact that his adopted grandfather had never accepted him into the family and had never let him forget about it. It isn't necessarily a shame that has kept him from telling her everything, but it's something close.

"You should tell her everything," Carlisle encourages after a moment. He sighs and switches to the exit lane off the highway. "Tell her everything I told Esme, at least."

Masen looks out the window, watching the lights on buildings as they pass by. "What did you tell her?"

"That I'm a coward," Carlisle answers, much to Masen's surprise.

Masen looks at his brother sharply, searching for an explanation.

"I didn't do enough when we were younger and I don't do enough now," Carlisle says firmly. "I should have stood up for you. Hell, I should have stood up for myself instead of trying to be a doctor and a business tycoon. But I can't manage to. I don't have the guts. I don't want to deal with the confrontation."

Masen can understand this. After all, it's essentially his own reasoning. Why rock the boat when enduring it is so much easier for everyone else? So he tells his brother, "You aren't a coward."

"Masen, you're my little brother," Carlisle says plainly. "I should have protected you more."

Masen shakes his head. "That's not your job. It never was your job."

Carlisle sighs. "I still regret it," he says seriously, and then his lips curl at the edges. "But all the same, I hope you prove that old asshole wrong. I'd love to see the look on his face."

Masen scoffs. He'd love to see the look on Grandfather Cullen's face, too. He imagines he'll get a great deal of satisfaction of out it.

* * *

Mom  
I'm so sorry about what happened  
at dinner tonight  
You and Carlisle left so quickly  
Did you get home safe?

Masen  
We're fine

Mom  
Your father and I have decided that is  
the last dinner we will be going to  
until the holidays  
You don't have to attend  
Thanksgiving or Christmas either  
Grandfather has crossed too many lines

Masen  
Alright

Mom  
However, we still want to have our  
own dinners, just us and you boys  
Carlisle can bring Esme  
And you can bring your Bella  
How does the end of the month sound?

Masen  
That will work

* * *

**A/N: So, Bella's birthday (Sept 19) really does fall on a Saturday in 2020. I checked. Like Leah, I took it as a sign that a bar crawl was **_**absolutely**_ **a good idea. And like Masen, I have been **_**itching**_ **to call GC a mean old bastard **_**to his face**_ **forever. It was somehow cathartic for me! How about you?**

**Things That Might Need Explaining: Binary Code. If you aren't already aware, then you should know that computers all run on a basic binary code of 0s and 1s; when you type in any letter or command a computer to do something, its internal systems translate those commands into binary code to fulfill the request. Binary code is the basics of basics in computer science. These days, computer programmers don't typically have the fuck with binary too much, because there are sophisticated coding programs like C++ and Python that do the heavy work of translating [code commands] into binary code. You can think of binary as a computer's native language. And if you want to do a little homework on the bracelet, then by all means - but it will be revealed in-story soon, so you might want to wait in suspense. (We all know what it says anyway).**

**Now, a few housekeeping things!** I noticed some readers were not satisfied with the length and content of last week's updates and I feel like it this has to be addressed, given the stress we are all under.

Please try to remember that all authors - even fanfiction authors - have their own lives. I write because I love it, I have a story to tell, and a message to spread. However, the content you read does not magically appear out of thin air. In my case, I work 2 jobs to take care of my chronically ill, disabled parent; last Monday I spent 11 hours in the ER with my mother due to a health scare (she's fine now) so I subsequently lost both an entire day of work _and_ time to write. The fact that there were any updates last week is a miracle. Every week, I spend upward of 10 hours writing this story, which are 10 hours I could spend doing something else I enjoy - the same goes for every other author. I am not beholden to provide "beefier" chapters at any time, especially when there are other things in my life that require attention.

As to the content of the chapters - every update is relevant to the overarching plot of the story. Whether you find the chapter immediately relevant or not, there are details included in each update that push the story closer to the end; upon re-reading, if you choose to, you will be able to find all the details that lead to the conclusion or to character development. Regarding romantic content, it should be obvious by now that if you are looking for a story where our leads fuck in every scene, then you have come to the wrong place. This story is about the slow-growing love between two characters who never thought they would experience love in the first place; it's also about how romantic love is not the most important type of love, as the love between friends, and the love for your aspirations, your dreams, and your career are all just as important.

To clarify, I am so incredibly gratified, proud, and happy that this story is so enjoyed and that it garners such passion from readers. However, please remember that this passion project comes free to you, but at the cost of my personal time and energy. Going forward, I hope everyone respects that we are all going through a collective trauma in this very difficult time, and that patience and kindness costs nothing to give to each other.

**As always, be honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, and stay inside.** Also, stay up on the science! There's exciting news out of the UK about a vaccine developed by Oxford that successfully triggered an immune response in 1, 077 people; this vaccine is now being moved into large phase 2 trials to see if the protection is as promising and effective as the early trials suggest. This is, of course, huge news - between this Oxford vaccine and the Moderna vaccine, it appears increasingly possible that we _will_ be able to have a viable vaccine. Three cheers for the scientists working their ass off for the good of humanity!

As for Portland…For once, I have no words. I'm scared and angry. I can see the echoes of history. It's terrifying. I think the simplest thing I can say is this: vote.

**~Rae**


	53. do economics make you thirsty

**[do economics make you thirsty?]**

Instagram

(A post featuring one picture.

Rose Hale staring straight into the camera, her expression twisted into one of comical apprehension as she balances a thick textbook with the word _ECONOMICS _slanted across the spine on the top of her head. Her hair is in two French braids and the filter on the photo makes her blue eyes appear especially bright. She wears a casual cardinal red Stanford shirt, the v-neck collar showing off the shape of her collarbones and the length of her neck. In the background, a desk piled with books and a calculator can be seen just over her shoulder.)

Posted 2 days ago

**byanyothername **Time to start studying. Pray for me.

#thisishowyoureadright #myfairlady #economics #collegelife

**Comments**

Ty-Liar I'll pray for you!

DRS0220 I'll pray you find some nice d* (eggplant emoji)

mathmagician Hey _DRS0220_ we don't tolerate that here

DRS0220 oh whatever man, she's the one who posted a thirst trap, take a joke lol

mathmagician No, she didn't. There is nothing provocative about this picture, unless economics make you thirsty. Take your fuckboi self elsewhere. This goddess deserves respect.

savethebees I'm with you mathmagician, I'm tired of these jerks hiding behind a supposed thirst trap to disrespect women

DRS0220 fuck you both she's the one showing off her body

Savethebees WHAT are you talking about, you can't even see cleavage!

mathmagician You asked for it. Don't say I didn't warn you

**View More Comments**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

_"Hey, K.O. Can I ask you for a favor, man to man?"_

_"Sure."_

.

.

.

.

_DRS0220, your account has been locked._

_Try logging in again later_

_._

_._

_._

_Your user name and password are not correct_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_Search Results for 'DRS0220'_

_0 Results_

_There is no user by this name_

_._

_._

_._

* * *

**A/N: This is update 1 of 2 this week. It was supposed to be 3, but..._life, _y'all. The next update tomorrow will be another bite-size bit, so if you just want to wait until next weekend to read them all in a row, that's totally cool. I meant to post them all at the same time, but like I said, life!  
**

**Alright! Let's talk about thirst traps! If you didn't already know, a thirst trap is a picture that is posted, usually on Instagram, to intentionally (and sometimes unintentionally) inspire sexual attraction or desire. You'll see celebrities use thirst trap pictures, usually bearing a lot of skin or in deliberately sexy poses, to sell albums, ideas, products, etc. It's very common and it's part of Instagram culture. However, thirst traps have a flipside that is **_**directly**_ **related to sexual harassment and it's important to draw that line of distinction. If a photo is deliberately sexy, you can call it a thirst trap (because it is intended to be) but you should not be able to make aggressive sexual advances because of it, i.e., skin is not an excuse to be a creep. If a photo is innocent (such as Rose's) because the subject is dressed normally and is not provocative, calling it a thirst trap is outright objectifying. On Instagram, you can see a lot of (usually male) users using "thirst trap" as an insult when people reject their sexual exploitation or advances. So essentially the whole idea of a thirst trap is a double-edged sword; just like cat calling, it's a good example of how rape culture has permeated society and also exemplifies victim blaming, i.e., "If she doesn't want the attention then she shouldn't look like that". And while I would say that whether it's okay to call a post a thirst trap depends on whether it was posted as deliberately sexual, I would also caution against outright sexual harassment *just because* the thirst trap was intentional.**

**Does that makes sense? It's kind of a complicated, problematic issue. But Emmett clearly takes **_**some**_ **offense to it! It's nice having an expert hacker in your immediate friend group, tbh.**

In response to one interesting question - Why Masen and not Edward? Honestly, I was looking for a more modern feel. Edward is a fine name, but I also had the urge to shorten it to something that jives better with a techy story - and yet I couldn't find it in myself to let him be called Ed, Ned, Eddy, or Teddy. Those are names for different stories. I might have gone with Anthony, but supernormal's Tony is fresh in my mind. That left us with Masen, which is both serious and youthful, but also has a modern edge I appreciated. I know most authors keep Edward and all other names the same - and there's nothing wrong with that! - but I've never been that author. I like to play around with variations or use canon middle names, etc. Masen has since grown on me, and I hope all readers too!

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, and stay smart.**

**~Rae**

ALSO, I managed to kill the pixels on the bottom half of my computer (don't ask) so I am getting a new computer next week. I'm confident the update should happen as normal, but just in case…I might end up missing a week. Sorry!


	54. been thinking about you

**[been thinking about you]**

There are times - rarely - when Rose laments what she does to put herself through college. Every week, she spends time regularly _tastefully_ exploiting her beauty, promoting products she has little to no use for, and interacting with people online who think they know her because that's what she wants them to think. She makes a wage off of being accessible and desirable - to men and women both.

It's tiring, sometimes.

And sure, maybe she could be spending her nights dancing on a pole instead, but in a lot of ways, Rose isn't sure what's so different between a stripper and an Instagram model. Except maybe that modeling is more convenient and less physically taxing. And there isn't anything _wrong _with stripping, aside from Rose's lack of rhythm; if a woman is beautiful, then she should do something with it if she wants to, and Rose has great respect for the ones who are bold enough and savvy enough to make easy pickings out of lustful stares. She does the same, doesn't she? To a lesser extent, maybe, but she isn't blind to the parallels.

All the same, she is fully aware of what she is doing when she posts pictures and brags about swag. She's influencing, seducing, selling. Even if she has hard-and-fast lines that she won't cross, even though she makes sure her skin is covered and her poses are neutral, even then she knows that there will always, _always_ be someone online who makes a point of objectifying her. That's just how it is.

This is where she and Bella differ, she thinks. Rose is almost certain that, even though she and Bella run very similar hustles, Bella is willfully ignorant of the lurkers who are lusting after her pages. Bella doesn't want to know. Rose, on the other hand, likes to keep tabs on the situation.

It's been a while since someone dared to call her a thirst trap. She wonders if she's being overly critical when she thinks it might have been better if the comments had been even a little unique. There was no original thought there. She might have skipped over it if not for the replies those comments won.

_We don't tolerate that here._

_Take your fuckboi self elsewhere._

_This goddess deserves respect._

Harassment isn't ideal and it makes her skin prickle, but she's always had a ruthless sort of temperament and she knows that, no matter how distasteful it is, dealing with creeps is part and parcel of her job. It's something she lives with, a bitter pill she gets to swallow every day, because in exchange for some occasional online harassment, Rose gets to pay for one of the finest educations in the nation. Some rando lusts after her latest Instagram picture, and in turn, Rose gains another like, another click, another dollar for her tuition to cover what her scholarship does not.

It isn't as if she hasn't been dealing with the same thing since she popped breasts and an hourglass figure overnight. And it isn't as if Rose is ashamed of her appearance or has any hang-ups about it. She's confident and sensual, fully in command of her sexuality. She might not be a reigning, if not reluctant, beauty queen, but she is the feature in plenty of wet dreams.

She would know. Being told about these dreams is the second most popular type of DM she opens, right after unsolicited dick pics.

None of this makes it any more pleasant, of course, to scroll through the comments feed on her last post and find some pea-brained moron calling her a thirst trap after her other followers get on his ass about it. She sighs, looking away from her phone long enough to snag one of the first-row seats in the lecture hall, right in the perfect spot to see all the graphs and charts projected onto the board.

Since there are still several minutes until class is due to start, Rose turns her attention back to her phone. Her eyes narrow slightly. That username - mathmagician - is familiar. He's been following her forever, she knows, always one of the first to like her posts and always ahead of the curve when it comes to reinforcing the idea that she should be respected.

Maybe it's the memory of the weekend still so fresh in her mind - a memory where she was (reluctantly) impressed by someone who made math seem like magic - that makes her do it. Or maybe she's truly as bored as she feels. Either way, she follows the random urge to click on mathmagician's handle and waits as his personal feed loads. She doesn't do this often. She has so many followers that it would, of course, be very difficult to single one out or even be able to see each of their profiles. But she makes an exception this time.

And when the page loads, she very firmly smothers the urge to make any noise of interest or outward expression. Because she knows the face on all those pictures. It's a face she's met - or re-met - very recently.

Emmett McCarty is mathmagician.

She'd realized very quickly on Saturday that Library Guy and Emmett McCarty were one and the same, but that had been as far as she entertained the thought. She thinks back to all of her interactions with Library Guy, all the flustered stuttering, and easily matches it to the earnest adoration Emmett displayed on Bella's birthday. All that together, especially with the proof right before her eyes, makes it very easy to reconcile mathmagician's identity.

Rose thumbs through his pictures, passing the time. All dimples and dark, curly hair and vibrant eyes. She remembers him as tall, a little larger than lean, and eager. He smiles a lot in these pictures, a decided contrast to how she knows him. She figures, probably rightly so, that she must make him nervous. Many of his pictures are him with computers or with one of the others she'd met this weekend. He apparently likes to stop and snap pictures of dogs on the street, too.

He's…cute. Vaguely annoying and bafflingly content to simply stare at her, as if just being in her space was enough to make him happy, but cute all the same.

Rose stops and stares at one picture - Emmett with a broad grin that crinkles his eyes attractively, snow smashed against half his face, stubble on his chin. Objectively, he's very attractive. (Subjectively, Rose always did have a thing for dimples…)

Thinking back on it, he was sweet on Saturday, wasn't he? He wanted to carry all her drinks and he tried to (successfully) impress her by calculating large sums in his head. And she hadn't missed that his large frame shadowing her around the bars had kept other men away, giving her a peaceful night out. She recalls that he'd been respectful, too. She hadn't once caught his eyes drifting from her face, even though she knows her tight jeans and spaghetti strap blouse had shown off all her best assets. If she takes a moment to think back to her interactions with him as Library Guy, he'd been the same.

Huh. No matter how she knows him, it seems like Emmett McCarty stays true to a general respect for her, as a person. He doesn't seem to want to treat her as a sex object, not even obliquely. His admiration is pure and unrestrained.

It's been a very, very long time since any man had shown such an innocent, honest interest in her, and it makes her curious - curious in the way she feels about numbers, about what makes money flow in predictable patterns, about how the right distribution can grant the highest yield.

Emmett McCarty makes her brain itch. She wants to know what makes him tick. She wants to know what it is about her that seems to draw him so completely, with such innocent devotion. She wants to know why mathmagician calls her goddess. She wants to know how much math he can really do in his head, because she's secure enough to acknowledge that it's a skill she finds sexy, and she wants to know how long he'd be able to keep it up…under a certain kind of pressure.

Rose is curious. And just like any other curiosity in her life, she wants to seek an answer to it - because there's something different about Emmett, who does not objectify her and does not tolerate her being objectified. So she holds onto her curiosity through this class and the next, all the way through her library study group and the snack she grabs from the campus store, all the way up until she has returned to her dorm and can track down the one person who can give her the kind of answers she's looking for.

Bella is, predictably, fiddling around with the drawing tablet she's been spending hours on every afternoon, sketching out and colorizing one character sketch after another with _great_ enthusiasm. Bella already has extraordinary focus - anyone who can willingly spend hours in front of a computer playing a game has an impressive attention span by Rose's reckoning, as she finds the very idea incredibly boring - but the attention she has been putting into these Midnight Sun projects is frankly impressive. Rose isn't exactly eager to interrupt her least dramatic friend, but needs must.

Plus, the loveable geek could probably use a break. Rose is probably saving her from carpal tunnel.

Rose passes her by to slant her body across one of the squishy bean bag chairs and nudges Bella's foot with her own. She waits until Bella's pretty, freckled face lifts to look at her, and then Rose says, "So, tell me about Emmett."

Both of Bella's brows raise.

Rose settles in to sate her curiosity.

* * *

**A/N: Update 2 of 2 this weekend. I've been gearing up for _this one_ since way back in the first arc of the story, so I'm pretty excited about it actually.**

**Anyway, the things mentioned in Rose's narrative are legitimate issues many people, usually women, deal with online. A DM is a direct message (generally on Twitter or Instagram) where unsolicited dick pics, sexual harassment, and exploitation are very commonly found. Of course, this issue is also prevalent on dating apps and general text exchanges. Younger generations (45 and under) regularly deal with these things, including being pressured into participating in sexting and online revenge porn, where private pictures/videos are shared on social media for the express purpose of humiliating someone, often after a nasty break-up. These are all elements of social media use that should not be overlooked. We all have to do better, whether by actively calling harassers out or by teaching children and teens early on the type of behavior that is acceptable, both online and offline. What I'm saying is this: if you haven't already, it might be time to have some uncomfortable conversations about these topics with your sons, daughters, nieces, and nephews.**

In pandemic news, the Moderna vaccine has gone into phase 3 trials here in the U.S. and there is some interesting literature being published about it in scientific journals. Keep an eye out for news about this one in Nature, as there are apparently interesting implications to the vaccine that are being confirmed by the previous trial phases. But until there is a vaccine, you know what I'm going to say - wear your mask in public. Like, _save a horse, ride a cowboy_, except _save a life, wear a mask_.

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, and stay inside.**

**~Rae**


	55. chapter 24

**[chapter_24]**

"So, tell me about Emmett."

Bella stares a Rose for a long moment, trying to parse the request. Slowly, the stylus in her hand lowers to her lap, safely away from the sensitive surface of her borrowed tablet, as Bella regards her friend.

Rose has on her no-nonsense face. It's the same one she wears when she helps Bella balance her bank account or demolishes them all with random trivia games. Bella struggles to catch up. She isn't sure what's prompted this demand, because the last she knew, Rose was more or less annoyed by Emmett. Maybe, if she's charitable, she can say that Rose was bemused by him, or even somewhat entertained in the same way people are entertained by small children.

Something has changed. Bella isn't sure what, but she can recognize that glint in Rose's eye, the one that says she won't be going anywhere until she gets what she wants. And in a battle of wills, Rose will always beat Bella.

Bella blacks out the screen of the tablet, shifting to sit up straighter, not that a bean bag chair exactly facilitates it. "What do you want to know?"

"What's his deal?" Rose asks.

"His…deal?"

Rose purses her lips together, glancing up at the ceiling in thought. "What does he do?"

"Well, he's the CFO for Midnight Sun," Bella says, which is something she's pretty sure Rose already knows.

Rose gives Bella a flat stare that confirms just how unhelpful Bella is being. "And what else? What's his thing? His major? His hobby? His weird habit?" Rose fires off quickly. "Does he date around?"

That last question makes something ping in the back of Bella's mind.

Bella blinks. Is Rose interested in Emmett? It's not impossible, exactly, but Rose doesn't exactly do relationships. She has an occasional fling, usually near the winter since she says having a boyfriend at Christmas keeps her warm, but mostly Rose is dedicated to two things: college and her friends. But by all means, this little interrogation certainly seems like Rose has found a new avenue for her attention - and Bella isn't quite sure what to make of it. Having watched them on Saturday, Bella is almost certain that Rose would eat Emmett alive if they actually dated, and Emmett wouldn't complain about it one bit.

She feels a dim thread of concern for Emmett now. But that doesn't mean she won't answer Rose's questions.

"Emmett is a happy guy," Bella says slowly, thoughtfully. She's spent enough time with Emmett over the summer that she has a good grasp on his character, so that's what she tries to communicate to Rose, who is listening intently. "He has a straightforward nature, I think, and he's generally very honest and helpful. He's smart. He understands the theory of computer mathematics better than I could ever dream to. He deals with the budgeting at Midnight Sun and Masen seems to think he does a good job…"

Rose lifts her brows expectantly. "What else?"

Bella huffs. "Can't you just ask him yourself?"

"No," Rose says bluntly. "Keep going."

Bella barely refrains from rolling her eyes, but she does go on the answer the rest of Rose's questions to the best of her ability. "His thing, I think, is bickering with Alistair and Peter, since that's what he seems to spend a lot of time doing, but he also games a lot, like Masen. He was in the top 10 dueling list for the longest time, although…maybe that's not what you want to know?" Bella ventures as Rose's lips thin.

Rose shakes her head.

"He majored in Computational Mathematics Engineering," Bella says.

"Sounds hard," Rose comments with interest.

"Well, it's definitely not easy," Bella returns, ever-so-glad she doesn't need to take any of those advanced classes for her own majors. The basics are quite enough for her, thanks.

"What about weird habits?" Rose presses.

Bella shrugs helplessly, shaking her head. "He's a man in his twenties," she says plainly. "All of his hobbies are weird to me."

"Like?"

"I've heard, from Peter, the kind of things Emmett likes to keep under his mattress," Bella says with a blush. Bella hadn't wanted to know, but Peter talks without thinking most of the time - and of course, in the same breath, he'd alluded to the things he keeps under his mattress, too, while also lamenting the lack of manly things Masen apparently does not hoard.

Strangely - and mortifyingly, because Bella very much does not want to know this about her friend - Rose's expression shifts to intrigue as she sits back in the bean bag chair. "Emmett McCarty…" Rose muses, a glimmer in her eye, one Bella recognizes.

"Don't break his heart," Bella pleads. "He's so nice, like an overgrown teddy bear."

Rose smirks. "What do you think I'm going to do to him?"

Bella squints.

"Do you think he's a virgin?"

"Rose!"

Rose laughs loudly, tossing her head back. "Don't worry," she says when her laughter dies down. "Emmett is a big boy. He can take care of himself."

"Maybe," Bella agrees, a fretting frown tugging at her lips. "But not when it's you. You're his, you know, Aphrodite. Just…"

Rose sobers completely at that, her eyes lowering in thought. "I'm just curious," Rose says after several moments, her blue gaze tepid.

Bella nods. "Okay."

"I'll be coming with you on Friday," Rose tells her. "See if I can sate some of this curiosity, you know? Besides, the opportunity for real-world experience is too good to miss."

"Don't you have class?" Bella wonders.

Rose waves her hand dismissively. "The TA is scheduled this week and he never does anything but drone on about his dissertation. I won't be missing anything."

Bella's lips twist in amusement. "In that case, I'll be happy to take you and Alice with me."

Rose smiles, a gentler one than usual. "Alright, then. Good talk. I'll buzz off, now, since you're busy being a workaholic."

"Takes one to know one," Bella volleys back, and they both laugh.

Rose ventures to her room, leaving the common room empty except for Bella and her thoughts. Bella can't help but think over the conversation, biting the inside of her lip. This doesn't feel the same as any of the other flirtations she has seen Rose explore, but whether that's because Rose is lukewarm to Emmett or because Bella is feeling a little protective of the sweet-natured feminist she's come to regard as a close friend, she isn't sure. Maybe a bit of both. In any case, the prospect of her friend group blending this closely is - well.

Bella briefly wonders if she finds this development more or less concerning than Leah and Peter's apparent friendship, which is a frankly horrifying idea.

She figures she has a right to be a little nervous, knowing who the all players are.

Maybe she should give Masen a warning. And Emmett a heads-up.

* * *

**Midnight Sunners (Group Chat)**

The Intern

I'm bringing in our

consultations tomorrow

Peter Programmer

YAY!

We're getting guests!

Boys, make sure to wear

deodorant

The CFO

You're the only one who needs

that reminder

Peter Programmer

I do not

Also

Why do you think I put it here?

The CFO

I think a brain cell just died

The Intern

We'll be in around 9

Graphic Grinch

Make sure your friend is

quiet

Dealing with Peter in the morning

is hard enough

Peter Programmer

Fuck you, Al!

The Intern

Alice is excited

She'll be on her best behavior

Lame Not Liam

Not sure what she can tell us

We know how to animate clothes

Call Me Chuckie

Yeah, but you have to admit

Our designs are a bit basic

Like

Only Drink Pumpkin Spice basic

Lame Not Liam

I'm not rising to your bait

ALSO pumpkin spice is good

so fuck you a little bit

Call Me Chuckie

bAsIC

Graphic Grinch

A consult is a consult

We may not adopt ideas

The Intern

I'm starting to think I should tell

you guys to be nice to her

Lame Not Liam

I'm nice!

Call Me Chuckie

Well…

Lame Not Liam

Shut up you don't get to talk

The Intern

Please be nice to my friend

Graphic Grinch

If any of you are sods

I'll reassign your favorite project

The CFO

Damn, Al

That's cold

Peter Programmer

Cold?

It's inspiring

Hey _The Boss_

_The Boss_

_The Boss_

The Boss

What

The CFO

You should learn from Al

Take notes

He punishes by taking work away

Not by giving more

The Boss

So you don't think more work

is a punishment?

I see

Peter Programmer

Wait

WAIT NO

That's not what I meant!

Lame Not Liam

Did anyone else see that coming?

Call Me Chuckie

Look at his face

_(Picture Attachment: Peter staring_

_at his phone in dismay, while K.O._

_stands behind him, stooped over_

_to read the screen, stone-faced)_

Peter Programmer

God damn it

Graphic Grinch

You'll learn one day

The Intern

Lol

Peter Programmer

You!

Rein in your boyfriend!

He's a menace!

He's menacing us!

The Intern

He was just giving you what

you want!

Peter Programmer

You're a menace too

You deserve each other

Call Me Chuckie

Sounds like a compliment

to me dude

Lame Not Liam

Oh look

He's flipping you off across

the room

And now you're doing it too

Very mature, guys

The Boss

Get back to work

Graphic Grinch

That was fast

They're so well trained

The CFO

Anyway!

Now that that's over!

Did you say consults

Bella, did you say consults?

As in more than one person

The Intern

Rose is coming in, too

She's done some research

that she wants to show you

and Masen

She's excited too

The CFO

Oh that's cool

So cool

The coolest

Graphic Grinch

Lord help me

The Intern

Are you okay Emmett?

The CFO

I'm totally fine

I'm great

So great

The greatest

I just have to go do a thing

The Intern

Do I want to know what he's

doing?

Graphic Grinch

No

But I can tell you it's hilarious

To me

My day is so much better now

The Intern

Okay then

See you guys at 9!

* * *

Friday morning sees Bella, Alice, and Rose wandering into the muted, controlled chaos of Midnight Sun weighed down with a dozen or so coffee orders and pastries from the bakery a block over.

"I can't believe you made us come bearing gifts," Rose mutters, lips screwed to the side as she balances the pink cardboard box. The front door shuts behind her with a soft click and she looks out to the small, pristine, predominately white lobby with pure judgment.

Bella can see that she looks moderately impressed, as if she had been expecting a run-down interior instead of a modern, open-work office curated by a rising architect and designer. Rose's eyes linger on the potted plants scattered about, one brow ticked upward. Alice, on the other hand, is vibrating in place with a familiar wide-eyed sort of awe, peering around curiously at the visible neon lights and the structure of the kitchen just beyond the lobby. Their polar reactions are completely expected. Bella is so fond, especially when she remembers how adamantly Alice had hounded all of them into semi-professional clothes; Rose in her nicest jeans, suede booties, and a French-tucked maroon button-up, Alice in green tartan trousers and a lightweight knit sweater with an Oxford collar underneath, and Bella in a pleated, burnt orange-and-burgundy floral dress with capped sleeves and brown flats. The chill of autumn is already setting in, inescapable in early morning dew and the cold creeping along floors.

Adjusting her grip on the coffee carrier, Bella shoots Rose a look. "This is what interns do," she says, which is true enough even if Bella hadn't spent a whole lot of her time here on coffee runs. Still, it's the least she could do and it was on the way. The boys will appreciate it. "Here, we'll drop these off in the kitchen, and then I'll show you around."

Alice scampers right at her heels with the other half of the coffee, only a moment behind Bella as they arrange the coffee by flavor. Rose brings the pastry box to the kitchen, popping it open and standing to the side, her arms crossed as she surveys the room.

"They haven't noticed us yet?" Rose asks, with more than a little amazement.

Bella supposes Rose has certain ideas about men in the tech field, mainly that they would all swarm at the first sight of an attractive woman. Well, she's not exactly wrong, but she isn't right, either. Bella looks over the group and sees the focus they have, and says, "Give it a moment. They're in deadline mode."

"Sounds serious," Alice whispers. Her brow furrows. "Will we be interrupting them?"

Bella shakes her head, her eyes landing on Peter's back, which stiffens as his nose rises in the air, apparently catching the scent of coffee. He can be a real caffeine bloodhound, which makes for a convenient way to make introductions. "It's fine," she tells Alice, nodding her head toward Peter, who is standing up, spinning around, and spotting them with an air of unbridled excitement. "He'd be interrupting them at some point, anyway."

Sure enough, Peter crows in delight when he sees them in the kitchen and he, along with the others who spot coffee and mid-morning pastries, descend on the area in record time. Rose snorts, while Alice greets the one she's already met, and Bella fields questions that are tossed her way.

Drawn by the sound, Masen emerges from the back office for a minute, catching her eyes and inclining his head - a silent invitation to join him for a moment, when she has the time. Bella sends him a soft smile, and, just for a moment, glances at the bracelet on her wrist. She still has to decode it. Or rather, be brave enough to decode it. The anticipation makes her both happy and nervous enough to procrastinate when she has never made of habit of procrastination before.

"Let me show you where you'll be helping out," Bella says to Rose and Alice, and they both nod with differing levels of enthusiasm.

"Hey, hey." Peter stops them before they can go too far. "Are you sticking around all day? If we are, we should have dinner! Or lunch! Linner!"

"Garrett's working his food truck today?" Bella asks knowingly.

"Yes!" Peter wails, pouting outrageously. "I miss him - his food, I mean! But he'll come back early if he knows you're here! So, will you be bait? I'm starving!"

Bella bites the inside of her lips to stop herself from smiling. "Of course," she agrees, watching as Peter immediately pulls out his phone to, she assumes, start luring Garrett back to him. Or, supposedly, Garrett's food.

They are only three steps away when Rose looks at her with exasperation. "Does he know?"

Bella shakes her head.

"But…But how can he not know?" Alice whispers in utter bewilderment.

"It's Peter," Bella whispers, shrugging her shoulders. She can't explain it, either. Admittedly, it took her more time to catch on than Masen, but once she's seen it, the extent of Peter's obliviousness is really beyond explanation.

"And he's in charge of what, here?"

"Programming," Bella answers Rose's question.

"Better that than the money," Rose mutters.

Bella presses her lips together, fighting a smile. "He's smarter than he seems," she defends, before acknowledging the real point. "But he is a bit…"

Alice and Rose nod in tandem.

"Anyway!" Bella says brightly, stopping at the edge of the open office floor. She beams, giving a quick run-down of the office. "This is Midnight Sun. It's pretty casual here, lots of collaboration. You've seen the kitchen and the lobby, and over there are the stairs to the apartments; obviously, don't go up there unless you're invited. Here," she gestures broadly to the open space and cluster of desks behind her. "You can find your department by following the signs, and back there is the conference room and Masen's office. If he's on the phone, wait to see him."

"We won't bother your man," Rose says, rolling her eyes.

Bella flushes. "That's not what I meant -"

"No need to lie," Rose teases.

"I think it's sweet," Alice asserts. "You're protective of his time! It's so cute!"

"And what is that?" Rose asks, leaning over to see Bella's swan-enshrined desk. Her smirk is nothing short of utterly delighted, much to Bella's resignation. "Did they do this?"

"Oh, that's so nice of them!"

"Nice? It's hilarious. Where did they find all those memes?"

"And the stuffed swan? Darling!"

Bella puffs out her cheeks. "Are you done?" she asks mulishly, wondering if maybe she should have done something about the desk beforehand. But then again, she finds it sweet, too, even if it is a little embarrassing. She waits for them to smother their amusement before she takes a decisive step to the left. "We'll start with you, Rose, since Alice and I need to be in the same place."

Emmett is seated at his computer in the engineering cluster of desks. His back is facing the kitchen and he has a blue headset over his ears, which he occasionally mutters into so he can dictate his notes to the voice detection program he has installed for that express purpose. So he doesn't realize that they have arrived until Bella taps his shoulder. He looks up, still muttering, and smiles at her - and then he catches sight of Rose behind her and freezes, eyes round as saucers. For a moment, he does nothing. And then, he bursts into alarming movement, standing and pushing away from his desk without realizing the length of his headset cord, which jerks him backward until the headset yanks off his head and clatters onto the ground. His face goes immediately red and he stammers.

"Good morning, Emmett," Bella says helpfully. Maybe if she pretends all of that didn't just happen, he'll get back to some semblance of normalcy? It's possible. She smiles at him. "I've brought Rose here for that consultation."

"Yeah. H-hi, how are you - I mean, good morning!" Emmett says, darting his eyes between Rose and the floor. He ducks down to pick up his headset, which he fiddles with nervously.

Bella casts Rose a side-long glance and Rose smoothes her expression out from the calculating stare she had been giving him into something more serious and focused. "I have a few ideas for your investment portfolio," she says briskly. "Do you have time to discuss?"

Emmett nods his head jerkily. "I have all the time in the world for you!" he says earnestly. And then, seeming to realize what he's said, he hastens to add, "And investments! I have so much time for investments. For the company. For investing in the company."

Rose's expression doesn't shift that much, but Bella knows her well enough to read the amusement glimmering in that blue gaze. Her friend very much looks like the cat that ate the canary and Bella spares a moment to wish Emmett luck, because he has no idea what's headed for him. Alice seems to think the same thing because she shoots Bella a worried look, to which Bella can only roll her shoulders.

"We'll be over in graphics if you need us," she says to Rose, looping her arm through Alice's elbow. "Have fun," she adds, but what she means is be nice.

Rose flips her hair over her shoulder and sits down at the desk next to Emmett's, pulling out the folder she had tucked into her tote bag. "Let's get started," she says, and Emmett nearly brains himself trying to sit down so quickly.

Bella really hopes Rose knows what she's doing. And also that Emmett will survive this encounter.

Turning away, she leads Alice across the room. "Your turn," she says.

Alice grins. "I'm ready!"

Bella pats her hand. "You already know Alistair, and he's the head of this department. Graphics takes a democratic approach to our projects, but he and Masen have final say. It's possible your ideas might not be used in the demo or at all."

"That's fine," Alice says breezily. "I'm happy to help, if I can."

"We really could use some insight on the clothing design," Bella says honestly, shaking her head, thinking about what the four of them have managed to come up with so far. They can draw and animate the clothing just fine, but as Charles is so prone to saying, their designs are all basic, all things that have been seen before. Something new and, preferably, historically accurate would be nice for a change.

"I already have some ideas," Alice assures her.

Alice's ideas, it turns out, are gathered in a little portfolio, where she has created clothing designs that would be appropriate for the multi-national, pseudo feudal era alternate dimension in which DOW2 takes place. At first glance, Bella is impressed; living with Alice for going on three years, she knows the kind of clothes Alice designs and produces, and even though Alice's major is more in-line with the design that Esme might do, especially if rendered on a computer, Bella can clearly see where Alice has applied her understanding of design elements to these designs. The clothing ideas are impressive, to say the least. Much better than anything the graphics department has come up with. Of course, the designs are also a lot more complex and, considering the action-adventure nature of the game, probably impractical for some animation, and that is where the members of the graphics department begin to have differing opinions.

Charles is delighted by the complexity and spends several minutes picking Alice's brain about her historical references and how certain designs might like with armor over-top, which Alice is more than happy to quickly sketch the idea out to see. Liam, on the other hand, takes some issue with the fact that the designs are so detailed; he argues that it would be impossible to render anything so complex, especially the differentiation of fabric and the patterns of the clothing. This leads to a surprisingly intense argument that Bella didn't think Alice capable of - it goes so far as to Alice insisting Liam scooch over so I can show you how it's done, and before anyone can say otherwise, Alice is proving why she continues to gain her scholarships each quarter. Bella thinks she is right to assume that Alice's new fascination with playing Dawn of Warcraft has benefited any classes she has where she is using software for design.

"What do you think?" Bella asks Alistair, leaning over so her voice doesn't carry.

Alistair is watching the screen intently over Liam's shoulder, absently rubbing his atrophied wrist, which has only just been freed from its cast during the week. He has a frown slanted across his fair features, pale eyes narrowed in thought. "It could work," he decides. "Not all players are going to have constant battles or quests, as we're fleshing out the life functions to broaden our player reach. Certainly, some of the more complicated designs can be used for this purpose."

"Options are never a bad thing," Bella agrees.

"The armor will need some work," Alistair continues. "And Liam is right that some fabric details will be difficult to render in constant detail – although, if Masen and K.O. succeed in their selective optimization, it might be possible..."

This is the first Bella is hearing about any optimization, but she knows now isn't the time to ask questions. She'll have to remember to quiz Masen later, as it sounds like he's taking on a special kind of project. The fact that it's just Masen and Garrett working on it makes her think that this optimization project is going to be truly revolutionary.

"You're not listening to me," Liam says heatedly, prodding the screen of the computer.

Alice lightly smacks his hand away and swivels around to pout up at him. "And you're not listening to me! A variety of colors is always more appealing. You, for example, would do really well to wear a color other than sky blue. It washes you out!"

Liam sputters incoherently and Charles barks out a laugh, almost falling over. "She sure told you!"

"Shut up!" Liam says loudly. "Blue does not wash me out!"

"Oh, honey," Alice says sadly, shaking her head.

Alistair sighs, then looks at Bella. "Will you go fetch Masen? If we're contracting these designs, then we'll need his approval. And compensation."

Bella casts an eye over the graphics department and nods, pleased that Alice's efforts won't be going to waste. "I'll be back, then," she says and trots off, weaving through the departments to make her way to Masen's department.

She sees that everyone is busy, already fully immersed in this Volturi demo. There are a few, maybe, who are still streamlining Menagerie for its release in a few weeks, but the majority are definitely on newer, more difficult projects. She can tell from the stressed, lost expressions. Actually, outside of the graphic's team, it seems like only Emmett and Rose have not been caught up in the rush of deadline demands. Bella doesn't linger, but as she passes by the engineering desks, she can hear Emmett gently – albeit stutteringly – explaining some convoluted higher maths theory to Rose, all without Rose making the face she does when someone is mansplaining to her.

Bella really, really wants to know what's happening there – but she's sure she'll find out later, one way or another. Probably from Emmett, if anything.

In the back office, Masen and Garrett are huddled over a stack of graphing paper, muttering to each other with a lot of head shaking and solemn expressions. Their optimization project? She doesn't want to interrupt, because she knows how frustrating it can be to be caught in the middle of a thought and pulled away, but she's also been sent on an errand and Masen is more forgiving to Alistair, even if Alistair gives Bella twice as much patience as he gives anyone else. So she knocks on the door, just a quick rap, and smiles slightly when two sets of serious eyes rise to meet her.

"Alistair needs you," she explains simply.

Masen nods and looks to Garrett. "Get started," he says, and then he rises to meet Bella at the door of the office. Maybe to other people his expression would be as characteristically blank as usual, but Bella can read his microexpressions well enough by now to see the softening in his flinty gaze when he looks at her. She can also hear the gentleness in his voice when he speaks. "Is there a problem?"

Bella shakes her head, brushing her knuckles across the back of his hand briefly. They leave Garrett behind at Masen's computer, where his fingers are already flying across the keyboard as he presumably starts whatever project he and Masen are working on. "It's nothing urgent," she tells Masen. "Alistair just wants your approval for some things."

Masen makes a noise of comprehension and, right in front of everyone, links their pinkies together as they traverse the length of the office. Nobody is paying them any mind, really, but she feels her cheeks heat up anyway, just slightly. She pointedly ignores the smug tilt to his lips, especially as it only lingers a moment before they arrive at the graphics department and he is swiftly immersed in Alistair's requests. Bella doesn't add any input here, being an intern, but she does exchange an excited glance with Alice, who seems both pleased and relieved that some of her recommendations are being adopted into the game. This is something that will look very good on her CV, later - even better than the Denali internship, really.

Masen, evidently trusting in Alistair's judgement, quickly approves Alice's consultation and indicates that he will put this consultation on the payroll within a few hours. He turns to leave, but instead of dropping her pinky, Masen instead shifts his hold to weave their hands together and says, "A moment?"

Surprised, Bella can only nod and allow herself to be guided out of the office completely. Masen takes them outside, where they stand under the chill noon-day sun for a while, holding hands and basking in companionable silence.

"My mom wants to have lunch," Masen says after a while.

Bella squeezes his hand, inhaling sharply. "Oh," she says dimly. It's an official meeting of the parents – she has no doubt that this time she will be meeting Anne Cullen rather than Professor Cullen, and also probably Masen's father, too. She breathes out and squeezes his hand again. "Okay, then. Lunch sounds...good."

Masen lifts a brow. "Does it?"

"Sure. Lunch is great. Almost as good as dinner." Bella pauses, considers that dinner would be much more formal than a simple lunch, and hastens to add, "Actually, lunch is much better than dinner!"

Masen is smirking at her, seemingly amused with her sudden bout of nerves. "I can tell her the semester is too busy for you," he offers.

Bella shakes her head in denial. "I want to have lunch with your parents," she says determinedly. After all, the anticipation will only get worse the longer she puts it off – and anyway, she's already acquainted with Professor Cullen, and anyone who could raise Masen to be so Masen surely has to be good, nice people. Carlisle Cullen is nice, too, and she didn't have any trouble meeting him.

Still...maybe she could use some advice. She knows just where to go, too.

"I'll arrange it, then," Masen says coolly. He draws her closer to him, tugging on her hand and looping his free arm around her waist. Seeing the familiar spark in his gaze, Bella tilts her chin up to meet the soft, lingering kiss he gives her.

She doesn't think It's her imagination to think this kiss says _thank_ _you_. She tries to make sure her kiss says _you're_ _welcome_, closing her eyes and leaning into him with complete trust.

* * *

Future Sis in Law

Esme!

I need your advice!

Role Model Esme

You've come to the right place

How can I help?

Future Sis in Law

Professor Cullen wants to have lunch!

Role Model Esme

Say no more

I completely understand

And I have a plan

Future Sis in Law

You do?

Already?

Role Model Esme

Well, I was going to invite you

out anyway to meet Kebi now

that she's back in town

It's a perfect opportunity to prime

you for a meeting of the parents

Future Sis in Law

If you say so

Role Model Esme

(Share: Location pin drop)

Meet us here on Saturday at 1

Wear something to impress parents

We'll take it from there

Future Sis in Law

thank you thank you thank you

* * *

"I'll tell you your first mistake," Esme says right off the bat, before Bella can even sit down at the table Esme had reserved for them. Swirling the golden liquid of her mimosa in its glass, Esme runs an eye over Bella, from head to toe. "You're trying too hard," Esme decides.

Bella is, admittedly, wearing some of the nicest clothes she has, courtesy Alice and Rose, who had taken the liberty of dressing her for this trial run while Leah recorded it all and laughed in the background. It isn't that her dress or shoes are formal, or even that her hair is done up in a fashion suitable to a cocktail party, but Bella feels a little uncomfortable in the clothes. The moment she put them on, she knew it wasn't right - but she also had the thought that trying hard was a good thing when trying to make a good impression on her boyfriend's parents.

Apparently Esme disagrees.

Motioning for Bella to sit down, Esme continues. "You aren't going to church, you're just trying to introduce yourself. Dressing in a way that isn't natural to you isn't going to leave the right impression, and anyway, if you aren't dressed as yourself, then you can't act like yourself either."

Bella deflates. "Then what do I wear? How do I act? What should I order?" she frets.

"Just do whatever makes you comfortable. Anne and Thomas are good people – maybe a little to mired in respecting the elderly – but all they really care about is the fact that Masen cares about you," Esme tells her firmly.

"Look at you," a mellifluous voice muses from behind them. The woman attached to the voice is a slinky, fierce-featured beauty of obvious Middle Eastern descent with warm, caramel-hued skin and a wild tumble of coiled curls bouncing around her high cheekbones. She wears a sensible green canvas jacket with a cranberry red satin camisole and vividly patterned harem pants with a design that looks plucked straight out of Egypt. The woman, presumably Kebi, sits down beside Esme with lifted brows. "Who knew you were so wise?"

Esme turns her nose up. "I'm the wisest person you know," she says haughtily.

"So all my friends really are dumb," Kebi deadpans.

Bella nearly chokes on her water, especially at Esme's outraged expression.

Kebi ignores Esme and smiles widely, even impishly, at Bella. "But Es is right for once. You don't look comfortable, kid," she says plainly. Kebi holds her hand out over the table, offering a handshake. "You're Bella? I've heard about your excellent aquatic life babysitting skills. Also, you keep a clean house. My room still smells like lavender and lemon."

"I - Thank you," Bella manages. "And thank you for lending your room to me. It's amazing, all the places you've traveled. And photographed."

"Still plenty more places to go and see," Kebi says casually.

Esme, smoothing her hair behind her ear, adds, "Kebi will be a globetrotter forever."

"Can I help if I have a wandering spirit?"

"I'm more worried about your wandering libido," Esme replies dryly.

Kebi makes a face. "If you're talking about Amun, then I still haven't forgiven him. What decade to we live in that he thinks our parents can really decide who we marry and how many kids we have and when we can have sex?" Kebi demands, and then, catching Bella's wide-eyed look of confusion, quickly explains that she and her long-time boyfriend have had a huge disagreement about premarital sex, mostly because Amun's family is traditional and Kebi is decidedly not. "Virginity," Kebi says passionately. "Is an arbitrary heteronormative social construct designed to reinforce misogyny and patriarchy. Even if I love him, his parents and their opinions can stay out of my bed."

"I see," Bella says faintly.

Esme giggles. "Do your problems meeting the parents suddenly seem less worrisome?"

"Yes," Bella says, instant and honest. As far as she knows, the Cullens aren't going to try to insert themselves into her and Masen's slow-burning sex life, and thank God for that, because Bella is already consumed with nerves – and excitement – about that without adding additional pressure.

Virginity is an arbitrary heteronormative social construct. Well, that much Bella can agree with, wholeheartedly and without a doubt. She hasn't ever put too much emphasis on her virginity, given that her hymen can break from something as simple as a bike crash. And Bella has had plenty of accidents since childhood.

She wonders if she and Masen are on the same page with this, as well.

"If you want my advice," Kebi says as she picks up the menu to start browsing the brunch menu, which is still available for another hour. "Don't worry about the parents. Worry about how important the parents are to your partner. Don't make my mistake."

"Amun isn't a mistake," Esme argues gently.

"No, he isn't," Kebi agrees with a sigh, appearing somewhat dejected. "He's just..."

It sounds like an old conversation, one Esme and Kebi have had frequently. Listening to them, watching them is like looking into a mirror of how Bella and her own friends are. She takes comfort in the fact that this kind of close friendship can still be had even well into adulthood.

"I want to make a good impression," Bella tells them after they have already ordered. She's already salivating for the huevos rancheros she ordered and contents herself with picking apart one of the complimentary muffins on the table.

"First impressions are bullshit," Kebi says decisively.

"What she means is that bad first impressions are permissible. They happen," Esme says gently. "You can fix a bad first impression, so It's okay to be nervous."

Bella looks at her with a worried pout.

Esme sighs. "Alright, I get it. I wasn't nearly this zen when it was my turn."

"It's true, I was there for it. She threw a shoe at me," Kebi divulges.

"You were goading me!" Esme says defensively. She huffs and looks squarely at Bella, ignoring the way Kebi is laughing at them both. "What kind of advice can I offer, hm? Talk about what you know. Don't try to reign in your normal personality. Interact with Masen as you normally would."

"So, just be myself?" Bella questions flatly as their food arrives.

Esme lifts her shoulders. "Essentially, yes. Don't think about it too much," she advises.

"There's nothing you can do about the way other people see you," Kebi adds. "So there's really not much use worrying about it."

"Truer words have never been spoken," Esme declares, delicately unrolling her utensils from a fabric napkin, which she spreads across her lap. She's the only one at the table who bothers to do so.

Don't think about it too much, Bella repeats to herself, mulling it over as she breaks the egg yolk and spoons up her food. It's good advice. It's probably the best advice she's going to get about this, actually, so she's going to take it to heart. After all, the worst that could happen is that Masen's' parents don't like her – and she doesn't think that would matter too much to Masen.

She glances at the bracelet on her arm and thinks maybe it's about time to decade the binary there. Maybe it will help soothe her nerves.

* * *

**Two Girls and a Baby (Group Chat)**

The Salty One

_(Picture Attachment: Change My Mind_

_meme, reading "siblings are convenient_

_cannon fodder for parents")_

The Sweet One

What's with this meme?

The Salty One

i think it's pretty self explanatory

The Sweet One

No

what it is is worrying

Baby Bro

I'm with sis here

What did you do

The Salty One

Nothing!

I just thought it was funny!

also a good reminder

Baby Bro

so you haven't done anything yet

and you're just warning us about

possible blackmail to get yourself

out of trouble

The Salty One

nailed it!

Good job Seth!

you're not a total idiot afterall!

Baby Bro

Why me

what do you have on me?!

The Sweet One

you got this meme from Peter

didn't you?

Baby Bro

Peter? Who's Peter?

The Salty One

a living meme

The Sweet One

Your closeness makes me

suspicious and worried

The Salty One

He was your friend first!

The Sweet One

Yeah

but i don't conspire with people

Baby Bro

She's got you there

The Salty One

I'm going to get you

and your little dog too

Baby Bro

oh come on!

don't pick on me!

high school is hard enough!

The Salty One

Suck it up chump

The Sweet One

it gets better

The Salty One

don't lie to him!

The Sweet One

I'm not! High school wasn't that bad!

The Salty One

so you say

i was confused all the time

Baby Bro

Same!

I'm also confused!

The Sweet One

I don't think you're confused

about the same things Leah was

Baby Bro

Are we not talking about algebra?

The Sweet One

lol no

The Salty One

So, so innocent

Baby Bro

I'm not innocent!

I know things!

The Salty One

that's true i guess

i have seen your search history

Baby Bro

What

Don't look at my search history

The Salty One

don't leave your browser open then

I take it back you are an idiot

Stupid

Baby Bro

You're such a harpy!

The Salty One

thank you!

it's my one goal in life!

The Sweet One

Wait

Seth

Do you not know how to

clear your search history

Baby Bro

what? of course I do

The Salty One

he doesn't

it's sloppy

The Sweet One

oh Seth

you know dad monitors that right?

Baby Bro

WHAT

The Sweet One

here, I'll send you a link

hold on

The Salty One

Pro tip, dumbass

use incognito

The Sweet One

(Link attachment: How to Clear Your

Internet Cache)

Baby Bro

I can't look dad in the eye

Ever again

The Salty One

You know

he probably told mom, too

Baby Bro

Well

i'm just going to go die now

The Salty One

go out in style!

be original!

The Sweet One

Lol

Baby Bro

you both suck

* * *

For most of her life, Bella's friend group has been fairly insular. She grew up attached at the hip with Leah, surrounded by Seth and the La Push boys all the way up until high school; any friends she knew at Forks High, like Angela, were distant, good-for-group-project friends. In college, Bella had surprised herself by forming close relationships with two other girls, but she considers Alice and Rose an exception and credits the fact that they were assigned to room together for the fact that they did grow so close so quickly. Even in the game, she keeps a close tab with only Janeway, treating her other guild members as associates; and the matter with Relentless was merely for convenience. Bella had managed to surprise herself again with how close she has grown to Alistair in particular and considers the rest of Masen's friends close, too. Esme, too, even though that's more a case of hero-worship than anything else.

But throughout the entire history of her friendships, there hasn't ever been a case where two friend circles intersected. Her La Push friends were not friends with her Forks friends; she did not expect that her college friends would blend so well with her friends from Midnight Sun.

And yet, there is irrefutable proof that Leah and Peter have formed some sort of unholy alliance. She thumbs through the Twitter thread full of memes and truly awful puns with a feeling akin to horror – knowing these two personalities, she can only imagine what they're getting up to behind the scenes. Neither Leah nor Peter are the type to keep secrets, either, which means their chatter is almost certainly filled with details about the lives of the people they know.

Bella is glad that Leah is making a new friend because, if anything, Leah is less likely to strike up a friendship than Bella – but she is really, truly leery of any friendship involving Peter's motormouth and Leah's general sense of not giving a single fuck.

The matter with Rose and Emmett, on the other hand, is something else. Bella has no intention of sticking her nose into that at all, although she does hope that Rose keeps in mind that Emmett shouldn't be handled the same way as any of her other boyfriends. She resolves to keep an eye on any developments there, just like she is keeping an eye on Alice.

Alice who, at that very moment, is sighing at her phone with a sappy expression on her elfin face. Alice's phone dings with another message, surely from Jasper considering the way she giggles.

Bella bites her lip, turning away from refining some botanical designs for the Volturi demo, the end of her stylus rapping against the wooden desk. "How's that going?" Bella asks when it appears Alice has sent her reply.

Alice turns wide, utterly besotted eyes up to Bella. "How's what going?"

"Things with Jasper," Bella clarifies. She feels almost nosey to be asking, because it's really not her style or her business, but she persists anyway. It's her duty as Alice's friend to look out for her, so that's what Bella will do. "Is everything...okay? It seems like things are going well..."

Alice gladly takes the hint, setting her phone aside as she wiggles to rest more deeply into her favored bean bag chair. She beams at Bella, a smile brighter than the sun. "Oh, Bella! It's just - he's so -" Alice lets out a gusty sigh, and makes a dreamy sort of expression. "He's so attentive and willing to learn. You know? I was right that he's grown up kind of sheltered and, well, being well-off means he's a little green to the real world. But he is learning quickly! He's changing for the better, and not just because he wants to impress me, I don't think. I think he wants to experience life organically."

Bella nods along, encouraging. "That's good, then. I'm glad he's treating you well."

Alice's smile is sparkling. "We just have different love languages, that's all. I've finally got him to stop giving me coffee unless we're buying it together and we've had a talk about special occasion gifts. I made him listen to The Beatles until he got it," she laughs, totally happy and seemingly content.

Bella smiles, too, imagining Alice forcing Japer to listen to Can't Buy Me Love on repeat until he understood its meaning and how to apply it to his relationship with Alice. "That's one way to teach him," she says with great humor.

"Right?" Alice's giddy smile dims, just for a moment, while she reflects more seriously. "But I know why you're asking. You're worried, right?"

"A bit," Bella admits. She rolls the stylus around in her hand. "Nobody liked seeing you hurt, Ali."

"I'm being careful," she says reassuringly. "And I trust him. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do. He's showing that he's capable of learning and – well, I'm not perfect either, am I? We can all stand to learn as we go. That's life."

Bella feels herself gentle at this spark of wisdom, relaxing more fully than she has in several days. "That's life," she agrees because isn't Bella also always learning, too? Learning about herself and life and the people around her?

"Speaking of life," Alice begins with the air of someone about to bite into a juicy secret, and Bella feels a thrill of nerves. She's right to be nervous because Alice returns the favor by pressing on Bella's own romance. "Things with Masen seem like they're getting serious. You know, officially meeting the parents and all."

Bella ducks her head, her cheeks flushing. She twists the slim silver bracelet on her wrist. "Pretty serious," she agrees.

Maybe as serious as she thinks? Are she and Masen really...?

Maybe. Maybe maybe maybe.

She knows that he gave her the bracelet for a reason. She has a feeling that the binary code will read. She understands that this is him, telling her something while also giving her time - a message with no pressure, a message he has sent and is patient enough to receive a reply about. It's all very Masen in that it's all very carefully calculated.

But is it serious? Is it that deep? Bella thinks it is – for her, at least, it is. She just needs to be brave enough to give it a name.

"Have you slept with him yet?"

Bella rears back at the question, and if her face wasn't hot before, it's on fire now. "Alice!"

"It's a valid question!"

"How is it valid?" Bella demands, louder than she means, flustered by the idea.

Alice laughs. "I don't know, maybe because you've stayed with him overnight at least once? Not that sex only happens at night. I lost my virginity at noon in a blueberry field, and I'm pretty sure Rose had a morning romp with someone..."

Bella has stayed the night at Masen's place, but he had slept on the couch and she had taken the bed. She remembers that night, awful for so many reasons except the way he'd looked at her, just for a moment, with a secret kind of heat. And following that thought is the way his fingers had felt stroking along her body, finding her hidden places, taking her to shuddering great heights, all in a fit of passion that had seemed to sweep both of them away.

Her heart flips over in her chest.

She's not quite as innocent as she was before. And if things continue as they are, she probably won't be so virgin-white soon, either.

She doesn't mind the idea. But – well, she isn't ready to gab about it if she hasn't even talked to Masen about it. And, if she's being honest, she doesn't think she can even think about it seriously if she isn't sure about the other thing – because can she really share her body in that way if she Isn't certain it's love? She craves that emotional closeness as much as she is anxious about confirming it.

Bella clears her throat, centering her thoughts. "Virginity is an arbitrary heteronormative social construct," she parrots.

Alice blinks, then sits back in surprise. "So, you're saying you've already -"

"No!" Bella denies quickly. "But – but, well, when - or if – I do, It's not like - It's not a huge thing, is it?"

Alice shrugs. "It wasn't to me and it wasn't to Rose, but I think it's important to you that the person is special, right? Maybe you don't need roses and candles, but you do need love, right? That's how you're wired."

Love. Bella doesn't know how Alice can say the word so freely, as if it isn't this huge boulder sitting on Bella's chest, demanding attention and to be acknowledged.

But Alice isn't wrong - Bella is wired that way. Physical virginity might be arbitrary, but the act itself is anything but. For her, at least. If she's going to share her body like that, then it has to matter. The other person has to matter.

"You look like you've got big thoughts," Alice observes, a sweet frown on her face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Bella replies. She chews on her lip. "I do have some big thoughts."

"And big feelings too, right?" Alice guesses smartly. Seeing the stricken look on Bella's face, Alice crawls forward to grasp Bella's hand, squeezing with a reassuring pressure. "Don't worry, honey. You'll figure it out."

Bella squeezes back, like Alice is a life raft she needs to stay afloat in the sudden tumult of her usually-calm inner-waters. "You'll figure it out, too."

Alice grins. "We're going to be okay."

Bella thinks - no, she knows – that Alice is right. It may be too optimistic, it might be naive, but she just has a good feeling about it all – about her future and her friendships and about Masen, too.

Which is why, later, when Leah is asleep and the dorm is quiet, Bella musters the bravery she needs to finally decode the bracelet she'd been given nearly two weeks before. In the end, it's a simple matter of huddling over her computer and pulling up one of the dozens of websites that specialize in converting binary code into English.

She painstakingly types in the long rows of numbers, using the light of her laptop screen to make sure she doesn't miss a single one or zero.

01101001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101

Bella takes a deep breath, holds the air in her lungs for a moment, and then presses enter. The page blanks out, reloading at a seemingly sluggish speed, and then in the second box beneath the original binary code is the translation -

Oh.

It feels like a jackrabbit has replaced her heart. Her ribs might break under the force of how hard her heart is beating. She feels lightheaded, breathless, dizzy.

Bella scrambles for her phone.

* * *

The Missus

I decoded the bracelet

This Is Really Masen

I see

And?

The Missus

Can I see you?

Right now?

This Is Really Masen

I'll be waiting

* * *

Masen sends a Lyft to pick her up, because of course he does. Bella sits in the backseat, her mind so swallowed up with those Big Thoughts Alice talked about earlier that she can't even summon the will to stutter through the awkward small-talk that usually happens on such rides. She stares at the window and can't help but be struck by the familiarity – here she is, once again showing up on Masen's doorstep late at night. This time, however, there is no ill-omen to portent her arrival, no conflict that sends her seeking his safe harbor.

This time it is anticipation and giddy joy that has her slipping out of the Lyft as soon as it idles on the curb outside of Midnight Sun. She takes a breath before she goes to open the huge glass office door. She considers, if only for a moment, that it's almost midnight, so it's maybe not the best time to travel halfway across Palo Alto to turn up at her boyfriend's door – but Bella is young and Masen is awake and they need to see each other because there are some things that shouldn't be said over text.

There are some things that can't wait for a convenient time.

Inside, Masen is already waiting for her. Sat at the kitchen counter on one of the swirling metal stools, he has his arms crossed over his chest and an ever-present implacable expression on his handsome face - it's only when she looks closer that she can see the tick in his jaw and the pinch at the corners of his gray-green eyes that belies his nerves.

Does he know what she wants to say?

Bella walks forward slowly, almost in hesitation, and comes to a rocking stop only a few feet away. She stares at Masen, drinking in his cool exterior and the way it doesn't quite fit with the tousle of his coppery hair and the rumple of his sleep clothes, a simple pair of grey jogger sweatpants and a white Stanford t-shirt. He must have been in bed when she contacted him.

Belatedly, she realizes she is also in her pajamas, peony pink sleep shorts, and a marled cream sweatshirt, the sleeves overlong with a sloth stitched to hang from the collar. It makes her feel shy, which is ridiculous. This isn't the first time they've been in sleepwear around each other.

It must be the gravity of the moment. She twists the bracelet beneath her sleeve and says, "I need to tell you something."

Masen studies her closely for a beat longer. "Upstairs," he decides, standing. "More privacy."

Oh, good. He understands this is a private conversation. Good. That's good.

Oh, God. Does he know what she wants to talk about, what she wants to say?

Well. Of course he does - it's not like he put that exact sequence on the bracelet by _accident._

Bella's stomach flutters and flips as she follows him upstairs, the minutes stretching so much longer than they have any right to. She's glad that it seems like the second floor is quiet, meaning her arrival probably hasn't been noticed if everyone else is asleep. That, at least, makes her feel a little calmer.

She swallows when Masen closes the door of his loft behind them. Just because he probably knows what she's going to say doesn't make it any easier to actually get the words out. If anything, there's an extra weight of expectation resting on her shoulders.

She wants to say it right. She never thought she would feel this way – or dream that the sentiment would be returned – so she wants to get it right the first time. Only the trouble is that the words just aren't coming to her. All those big thoughts and half-planned confessions she mused over on the drive have seemingly left her brain completely.

She must look silly, or even flustered enough, just standing there gnawing on her bottom lip and twisting that bracelet around, because Masen takes pity on her. He eases nearer, effortlessly looming over her, pressing his height to his advantage until she is backed against the door, spine flesh to wood as she stares up at him. Her heart skips a beat when he strokes the curve of her cheek, gently lifting her chin.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he wonders. "Another dazzling idea? You can tell me."

"I..." Bella trails off, the words and the courage leaving her. She had been so very sure in the moment that she would be able to tell Masen the moment she saw him, like saying the words were as simple as the words themselves. And yet here she is, frustrated by her inexplicable inability to speak, the weight of her tongue twice as heavy as her bracelet.

Could she just spit out the same sequence of numbers and expect him to understand?

No. No, that's not the right way.

Masen's thumb brushes against her bottom lip, tracing the pouting frown that is slanting her mouth. "You fascinate me," he murmurs, only just audible. "Everything you do is so captivating."

Her heart swells, even as she drops her eyes, unable to withstand the intensity in his gaze.

He continues. "I'm enthralled by you, hopelessly devoted. I love you," he says tenderly, so much more gentle than she ever imagined he could be - and her heart stutters, skips a beat, because he's said the words out loud, now. He said them as easy as breathing, with a searing, simmering sort of confidence that leaves her in a puddle as he keeps going, musing along with whatever train of thought keeps him hovered around her, his body heat pressing into her skin, his palm curving to the shape of her jaw. "You don't know this, but I could watch you all day and never grow tired. I'm content to breathe the same air, to listen to your heartbeat, to feel the warmth of your skin – but I'm also so selfish when it comes to you, so I want more. I want everything with you, every day."

"Masen," she breathes helplessly.

"You decoded the bracelet," he reminds her.

She nods, heart trembling, body not far behind. If Masen could say it, then Bella can say it too. He deserves to hear tender words, too. She reaches for the dregs of her courage, even as she reaches for him, taking his jaw between her hands so he has to look at her, his stubble prickling her palms.

"It's you," she tells him as clearly as she can, even though her voice is barely more than a whisper. "It can only be you, now and always. I think I'll love you for the rest of my life."

Deep emotion flares in Masen's eyes and she has only a moment to appreciate it before he descends on her, taking her mouth in a gentle, tantalizingly languid kiss. It's the kind of kiss that is meant to seduce; the way he cradles the nape of her neck, dragging her closer around the waist as he licks into her mouth, tasting and savoring and spinning her head around. It's all she can do to tilt onto her toes and lean into him, fingers curling into his shirt and his hair, trying to keep up and meet him stroke for stroke.

She doesn't know how long it is they kiss before they break apart, only far enough to press their foreheads together. Masen's hands are as low on her body as they have ever dared, nearly cupping her behind, and her own have slipped down to his stomach, feeling the subtle ridge of muscle hidden beneath cotton. Her hand drifts lower as she meets his eyes, tracing the jut of his hip bone and the elastic of his sweatpants, all-too-aware of the bump pressing against her bellybutton.

He catches her hand before it can move any further. "Are you sure?"

"You're really asking?" She wonders, a tad incredulous.

"Consent is important."

"What about you? Do you consent?"

"I want everything with you," he repeats.

The heat of her blush is probably burning his skin. "Maybe not everything just yet. But..." She tugs on his waistband again. "Maybe this?"

Masen's next kiss is not half as gentle as the first one. Somehow, they manage to stumble through his apartment and tumble onto the bed, side-by-side, and still kissing. Shirts are rucked up and pants tangle around knees. His mouth finds a delightful spot beneath her ear that makes her keen and scratch at his abdomen, which has him thrusting into her touch. Her mind is too clouded by the way his hands feel on her breasts to have any hesitation when she passes her hand over where he is hard and wanting.

The soft groan he muffles into her neck is beyond gratifying, and it makes her want to hear more - and so all of her anxiety from earlier is promptly tossed out the window as she chases after his pleasure. Learning the shape of him, the tender give, the way he pants if she scratches her nails over the tip, all of it consumes her thoughts until it comes as a genuine, if not pleasurable, surprise when his long fingers squirm into her underwear and stroke against the slickness of her skin. He has the advantage of already doing this once, and with unerring precision, he circles his thumb over the bead of nerves that send her spine quivering. In thoughtless retaliation, she squeezes him tighter, rushing a stroke quickly enough that he groans again and juts his hips into her motion.

She puts out of her mind the slick sounds her own body makes – and his, as precome spills and smooths the way – and can do nothing else but focus on the fire spiraling from her enter.

She reaches her end first, clenching around two of his fingers, and then it's his turn, warmth spilling across her palm as he sucks a mark onto her skin.

They stay still and quiet for several long moments, each of them catching their breath and gathering their thoughts. Her head tilts up, lolling lazily over the bicep beneath her neck, and she looks at him with a satisfied, heavy-lidded gaze. Masen is flushed at the tops of his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and he returns his stare with a sense of smug pride and undeniable satiation.

"Stay over?" he asks.

Bella nods.

Why shouldn't she stay over? They're in love - and she doesn't want to leave, not just yet.

* * *

**A/N: Consent is important, folks. And sexy. Now, I'm off to go figure out my new computer and recover from work - and the week, honestly, which was been wild and unsetting so many ways.**

**However, at certain request, I do have some advice you may find useful!**

We are still, for some reason, still debating the usage of masks in this country. Public health isn't a matter of politics, so I really can't wrap my head around any of it. That said, the mask-wearing is something that it takes time to acclimate to for everyone, some more than others. In fact, some people who wear masks struggle with feelings of claustrophobia, anxiety, and psychosomatic difficulty breathing, which I do sympathize with. I've talked to people who cite feeling nauseous and I recommend sucking on a lemon drop, ginger candy, or peppermint while wearing the mask. For you, I think there are possibly two solutions.

**1.** Try wearing a mask inside the house for short intervals to get used to wearing them outside of the house; you can move up from 1 minute to 3 to 5 to 10, etc. until you can comfortably wear a mask for the duration of the time you might be outside of the house. This is kind of like an ad hoc exposure therapy to build up your tolerance. I would recommend wearing the mask at different times of the day, in different temperatures, at different levels of activty, etc.

**2.** You might also try a different form of mask. If a surgical mask is the one you wore when you had your panic attack, then you might switch to a neoprene mask or a cloth cotton covering. Both of those have a generally "lighter" feel. Just make sure you verify that they are effective at trapping your respiratory droplets by doing the Bill Nye candle experiment - if you are wearing a mask and you can blow out a candle, then the mask is not sufficient.

**My advice is to take is slow. Wearing a mask is the best option any of us have at this point, so you need to have the ability to wear one if you absolutely must. Try to acclimatize yourself if you can - and focus on the progress you make.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay calm.**

**~Rae**


	56. how private tabs helped peter get a clue

**[how private tabs helped peter get a clue]**

Peter has never been so well-fed in his entire life. No, really. Like, it's an actual miracle he can still fit into his pants because the amount of food Garrett provides for him has him stuffed just, like, all the time. He's so happy that Garrett has chosen him to be his experimental food taste tester. The best decision either of them has made in their entire lives - seriously. Peter, who is admittedly prone to more than a little exaggeration, is 100% serious about this. Letting Peter be a taste-tester is a dream come true. One of them, at least.

He munches on another bite of what he's going to call s'mores nachos. Garrett had done something with graham crackers, he thinks, to make these flat chip-like crisps that are layered between melty, perfectly browned marshmallows, three different kinds of chocolate, caramel, and gloriously salty peanuts. He loves the days where Garrett splits his time between the food truck and the office - it's definitely the best of both worlds for him. Peter's face is sticky with the concoction and he keeps having to suck bits of chocolately marshmallows off his fingers, but he's still groaning with happiness at every bite.

"Man, this is so good," he says, licking at his lips.

Garrett stares at him for a beat, eyes flicking around his face, especially his mouth for some reason. "Too sweet."

"The peanuts balance it!" Peter denies it quickly. Honestly, he doesn't know how Garrett does it, but he has a way of knowing what Peter isn't saying, particularly when it comes to food. Peter's been accused of having an expressive face in the past, so maybe that's it. Or maybe Garrett has his own suspicions and he just uses Peter has, like, a fact-check or something. Who knows? The point is, Peter isn't going to listen to Garrett say he's made something less than mouthwateringly fantastic. "You could salt the caramel, I guess, but I like it just like this! Anything that makes my tongue work this hard has to be delicious!"

Garrett looks down, brows furrowed together as he wipes up some sauce and chocolate from the steel countertop of his food truck. They're inside the kitchen area, kind of scrunched together because they're both tall guys - Garrett's taller and broader, obviously - so the fit isn't exactly comfortable, or it wouldn't be if it was someone else. Peter's always been a tactile guy, but even he doesn't usually get this close to his buddies. Garrett gets to be the exception, mostly because he plies Peter with the aforementioned delicious food. This is why Peter gives absolutely zero fucks when he swoops under Garrett's arm, his spine snug to Garrett's chest, and wiggles in glee when he makes a successful steal of the remainder of the s'mores nachos.

Garrett coughs. He should really see a doctor about that, since he seems to have a weird habit of coughing randomly, just like, all the time. Not hacking coughs or that God-awful cough Peter's uncle makes before he pops a loogie or anything. Just more a persistent dry cough that afflicts Garrett anytime Peter is near.

Peter frowns around his mouthful of delicious sugar. Is Garrett allergic to him?

Peter twists around until he and Garrett are face to face - and hip to hip - and says his question out loud. Because his mouth is full, it comes out kind of garbled, but Garrett seems to understand. "Not allergic to you," Garrett says firmly. And then he takes a step back and retrieves a glass of water for Peter. "Drink."

Peter, not one to defy friendly order-like help, takes the glass and washes the sweetness down his throat and off his chest. "If you were allergic to me, I could change my soap or something," he offers anyway because he's a nice guy. And also because he's almost out of soap anyway, so it's not like it would put him out to buy a new bottle.

"Soap is fine."

"If you say so."

"Do."

Peter sighs. His stomach is pleasantly full and he can feel sugar buzzing through his system already. He reaches a hand out, clapping Garrett's firm, muscular shoulder, and smiles a megawatt grin. "You know, even with your monosyllabic nature, you know all the ways to keep me happy, huh?"

Peter isn't exactly expecting an answer. Half the time he talks, nobody answers anyway, which is something he's grown used to all his life. Granted, Garrett has a habit of answering more often than anyone else, or at least more directly, but Peter still isn't anticipating, like, a true answer - and he especially isn't prepared for the abruptly heavy way Garrett looks at him, or the way Garrett's dark eyes trail over Peter's face and down his throat and down lower still, or the way Peter feels like a specimen under a microscope when Garrett does any of this.

"Not all," Garrett says.

"Eh? What do you mean?" Peter laughs, inexplicably nervous. Wow, but he and Garrett are, like, really close now, aren't they? Like, super close. Like, Peter can keenly feel Garrett's body heat and this food truck kitchen is super tiny close. "Are there other ways to keep me happy that I don't even know about?"

Garrett gifts him with a fantastically flat, if not pointed, stare.

Now, okay, it's not all that often that Peter has the privilege of hearing the words he says as they might sound to other people. Usually, he just speaks and the words are out there, and then it's done. But sometimes, on rare occasions, he'll actually hear what he's said and realize that he's well and truly made a massive verbal blunder. Because if even Garrett is silently telling him that Peter's made one hell of an innuendo, then Peter really did say something worth being mortified over.

And that's why he stutters through some awkward laughter, looking away and back and away again. He pats Garrett's chest weakly. "Ahhh, aha...Garrett," Peter says, cautious and embarrassed. "I don't know if that's really your business."

Because it's one thing for Emmett to stumble across Peter's internet cache and give him grief about it, and it's another thing entirely for Garrett to bring it up. Because, like, it's Garrett, and Peter's mind has a way of shying away from anything that could remotely make him less likely to talk to this particular friend.

And yet here Garrett is, saying the silent things out loud! Have mercy!

"Is," Garrett says, a low voice that has Peter shivering.

Peter laughs again, a stuttering, breathless, nervous noise. "Wh-what? I mean - that isn't - What are you saying?" Peter demands, wide-eyed, and panicky for reasons he can't even wrap his mind around. He clutches onto his humor-driven defense mechanism like a goddamn lifeline, trying to bust up the heavy tension between them, condensed into this too-small space, that is making his heart feel like a record-scratch in his chest. "Where did you get that sense of humor? Warn a man, first!"

"Not joking."

Is it just him or does Garrett seem a lot closer than he did before?

"What do you mean? Are you serious?" Peter demands, shying away from the sheer force of Garrett's weighted gaze. "If you aren't joking, then you're saying..."

Peter can't even finish the sentence. He can't even complete the thought.

Fortunately - or maybe, unfortunately, depending on who's asking, really - Garrett seems more than willing to finish the thought for him. "Is my business," Garrett says decisively, gazing at Peter steadily. "Will be my business."

Peter, who has never felt truly flustered once in his life, is blushing to the roots of his hair, probably beet red. Because. Because, well, Garrett...he's saying things. He's saying things to Peter. Things that make Peter a gibbering mess, and he really just can't believe it! Peter looks at Garrett, utterly caught, and swallows heavily. He should say something, like, "my privates aren't your business now or in the future, buddy!" or "what me and my left hand do is between me and my left hand!" but the words just don't come. Peter is speechless.

By the luck of some higher power that Peter will totally pray thankfulness for in the future, Peter's phone chooses that moment to go off. He scrambles to pluck the device from his pocket, swiping at the screen with sweat-nervous hands, trying not to sound half as breathless as he feels when he answers. He doesn't even look at who's calling, but it doesn't matter.

It turns out to be Emmett. "Hey, not to interrupt your date-"

Peter cuts Emmett off right there. "It's not a date!" he yells, too loud, because Garrett is right there, looking at Peter with that same stone-wall expression as always, and he doesn't seem the least bit offended at Peter's outburst, which Peter can't wrap his head around, either. Because if Peter had been putting the moves on someone - and that is what Garrett was doing, right? - then he would probably be a little insulted if the first thing they said to someone about it was the move-putting wasn't even happening in the first place.

This guy! Ugh!

On the other end of the line, Emmett snorts. "-yeah, okay, whatever. Look, Mase needs K.O. right away. He has that dumb constipated look on his face that means more work is coming for the rest of us, and he's looking for K.O., so..."

"Why did you call me, then?" Peter gripes.

"Why should I? K.O. is wherever you are, and you actually answer your phone."

Is that true? Like, Peter obviously knows that he and K.O. hang out a lot, because that's what buddies do. But to think they're around each other so much that their friends know to call Peter instead of Garrett to pass messages along is, just...Well, Peter thinks that definitely means something. It's probably more damning than Peter not even realizing it in the first place!

"Can you get his sulky ass here, or do I really need to come to get him?" Emmett demands, jolting Peter out of his thoughts.

"We're on our way," Peter answers, somewhat absently, and then hangs up. He flutters a glance at Garrett. "Uh, the bossman is requesting your presence. Like, now."

Garrett nods and, with a truly admirable, if not confounding, ability manages to pull back the intensity still taking up all the air in the food truck. "Have to wait for staff," he says, gesturing around with a damp rag he's picked up again. "You go ahead."

Peter's head bobs. "Yeah. I'll, uh, do that. And...I guess I'll see you later?"

Garrett watches silently as Peter stumbles out of the food truck and, like, it's probably Peter's imagination, but he's pretty sure he can feel Garrett looking at him as he scurries his ass out of dodge, too. Peter's quick pace doesn't slow for at least a block, and when it does, he finds that his knees are weak and he has to rest against the side of a building for a moment.

Wow. That was...intense. Whatever that was was so fucking intense.

What just happened? Did Garret really just...?

Shit. Yeah, he did. He definitely did. No mistake about that. Peter's never been at the receiving end of a come-on, but he knows the looks of one when he sees it, and Garrett was sign-seal-delivering no doubt about it.

Is that...okay? Is Peter cool with that?

Well, it's not like Peter really gives a shit about what revs someone else's engines. He's a proud ally, okay? Sexual orientation is just a thing he doesn't care about. Like, Alistair is so ace it's ridiculous and Emmett's entire sexual interest is focused on one unattainable girl and Masen, for the longest time, was just beyond figuring out, although recently it seems like he has the most game out of all of them. And Peter? He's liked girls since forever. So, it doesn't bother him, but it's also...

Wait. Does Peter like girls? He'd always thought so, but maybe not. Or maybe he does, but he also likes guys? And maybe Garrett is picking up on some bisexual vibe Peter's putting out, and that's why he...said those things. It's possible. Like, okay, Peter has always noticed pretty people, and he's confident enough in his masculinity to know that sometimes dudes are a lot prettier than girls. Dudes are also a lot more intimidating.

Holy shit. Maybe that's it. Maybe Peter's been a mess of chaotic bi energy for his entire life, but he's been too intimidated by other dudes to give it a shot, so he's just been thinking he's as hetero as ever the whole time even though he's probably as straight as a right angle. Although of all the intimidating dudes he's met, Garrett is at the top of the list. And yet, here he is, wondering. Because - well, especially in Garrett's case, it's not like Peter's been blind to how sharp that jaw is or how frim and broad that body is or how that deep, seldom-spoken voice washes over him like velvet and -

Yeah. Yeah, maybe Peter needs to think about this some more?

Peter laughs to himself - at himself. He can't believe that he's coming to such a heavy, life-altering epitome in the streets, but it's also to typically him that he really can't expect anything else, can he?

"Garrett, man," Peter mumbles, muffling his words into his hands, which he has pressed against this face. He shakes his head with a helpless laugh. "You've opened my eyes."

Peter better double-check his personal laptop's firewalls before he goes online tonight. He has a feeling his usual search history is going to look a little different than usual - for the sake of research, obviously. He has to know for sure! And he will, and then he'll...figure out where to go from there!

.

.

.

"What took you so long? Where's K.O.?" Emmett demands the second Peter walks into Midnight Sun because he's both rude and a dumbass.

Peter makes a face at him, sticking his tongue out, trying to ignore the way his body jumped when Emmett so much as referenced the current subject of Peter's potential sexual identity crisis. "He'll be here, you giant oaf," Peter says. "Unlike some people who have the time to call and harass people on their lunch breaks, Garrett has two jobs - or three, if you count feeding me, which I think he definitely does. He does, doesn't he? Sure, he does. Obviously."

Emmett is giving him a weird look, which wouldn't be all that strange since Emmett's whole face is weird to start with, but Peter thinks that, maybe, this time he kind of earned the weird look. But it's not like he's going to let Emmett get away with it! Peter blusters some scathing remark and confuses Emmett enough that he'll leave him alone in peace so Peter can skulk away in peace. And while Peter might like to go upstairs and start research right away, he has this awful image of Masen barging in while Peter is busy and dragging him back to actual work by the ear - so. Peter will have to wait.

If he ever-so-subtly avoids interacting with Garrett directly when he stalks through the offices not thirty minutes later, well then that's Peter's business, okay?

Peter does his programming thing, working on the life interaction tree Masen is dead-set on having for the Volturi demo, and studiously avoids making eye-contact with most everyone, but especially Garrett, for the rest of the day. For once, Peter is more than happy to drown in the bucketload of work he has lined up.

He bides his time until office hours are over, makes a totally-not-flimsy-at-all excuse to the others, and jets up to his apartment. He double-locks the door and closes all his curtains, just to be safe.

And then he turns to his laptop and says, "Alright, Pete. We're doing this. We're really doing this."

Because he has to know - and he has to know for sure.

.

.

.

Peter emerges from three hours of scouring new categories on PornHub, tired and little chafed. It hadn't taken him very long at all to realize that, for as long as he has been a healthy, porn-watching, virile young man, he's been paying more attention to certain bodies than others. And by that, Peter means that his eyes have a habit of watching the meat rather than where the meat is going. No wonder he always liked bukkake! If Peter had happened to find videos that featured strapping young men with dark hair and dark stubble and intense expressions, then wow, what a coincidence. His first round of gay porn had been illuminating and overwhelming and has left him exhausted.

He is definitely not as straight as he thought. He might not even be as bisexual as he thinks, either. But whatever he is, it 100% is not heterosexual.

Peter does the bare minimum to clean up, resolves to wash his sheets in the morning, and melts into slumber. His last thought before he drops off is about how serious Garrett was, earlier.

Peter kind of hopes Garrett wasn't kidding or just flirting for the fuck of it.

Kind of hopes more than a little, actually.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was also titled "Peter's Big Gay Revelation" but I felt it didn't have enough mystery, so. Now! Everyone comes to realize their sexual orientation in different ways, because it's a unique journey for all of us regardless of orientation. For some, it happens quite early in life; for others, quite late. For Peter, I thought it would be fitting for him to figure himself out in this way, because he's the type to take a more hands-on approach to problem-solving. Literally! How did you discover yours?**

**Speaking of hands-on, let's talk about porn. So, while there's definitely some pornography that's problematic (the stuff on the dark web that gets people arrested), your average porn site is generally filtered for problematic content, especially non-con pornography. There's a lot of controversy around porn, such as whether watching makes you a deviant or if watching sets up unrealistic expectations for sex, or how old someone needs to be to watch/access porn. My personal belief is that there is a lot of strange red-lining about porn and that porn is a tool just like any other, which means it can be misused and abused; however, accessible sites such as PornHub (owned by Canadians) take regulation very seriously, which means any content there is more likely to be above board. Watching porn can be useful for those with intimacy issues, those who are single, those who do not want to have personal sexual relations, and those who are exploring their sexuality; porn can also be a useful tool for couples trying to regain intimacy and explore their sexual health. I've brushed over porn a few times in this story already, so by now it should become evident that most of Millennials and Gen Zs don't have the same hang-ups about pornography as other generations; younger people tend to be more open and accepting of it, along with orientation and gender. Human sexuality is not ever a source for shame (unless it is harming another person), although women, in particular, are often shamed to any interest in their own sexual expression, especially when porn is involved. To that end, bukkake is a type of sexual activity where several men ejaculate onto one (or more) people; this is found in both straight and gay porn, and it is still considered bukkake if there are only two people involved. And now you must be wondering which side Peter imagines himself on? It's up to you! **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, and stay healthy.** Also, start looking into your area's voting situation. Now is the time to request absentee (mail-in) ballots and to register to vote, if you aren't registered already. Given the current state of the USPS, it's worth the effort to see if your area has any ballot drop boxes where you can just drop your ballot instead of mailing it in. About 32 states are not counting absentee ballots that are postmarked after election day, so getting your ballot in sooner rather than later is key. You can contact your county's election board for more information - it's likely a Google search away (just Google the name of your county + voting and you should pull up relevant results).

**~Rae**


	57. swan's first mukkbang

**[YouTube Video]**

Swan's First Mukbang: Why College Kids Shouldn't Be Allowed To Feed Themselves (Really)  
**ClarityIsClear**  
338k Views / Posted 1 year from now

(The video begins with the screech of chairs and the squeal of opening styrofoam containers and a gaggle of female voices talking over each other with "Pass this here" and "Do you have a napkin" and "Has anyone seen the chopsticks?". The first actual images of the video include a close-up of steam rising off an eggroll, and then a slow zoom-out as the camera roves over a table full of piping hot, mostly-fried foods. Almost every inch of the table is covered by take-out containers from a dozen restaurants.

The table itself is surrounded by a half-circle of women, three of them instantly recognizable, and one a more recent addition. Bella Swan is seated more or less in the middle, her haircut still new, the cinnamon waves resting right at her collarbones; she is passing napkins to the other women at the table, olive eyes bright as she smiles, the ever-present bracelet on her wrist glinting in the dimmed lighting. Beside her is Alice Brandon, her black hair tucked behind her ears in a still-growing stylish shag; on Bella's other side is Esme Cullen, a newer edition to the group with her gentle, old Hollywood classic beauty; Rose Hale is at the final place at the table, currently pulling her beach-blonde hair into a careless bun, seemingly in preparation of eating.

Leah Clearwater is operating the camera, which she swivels around for just long enough to make her introduction. The purple is finally out of her hair, although now her dark locks are shorn into an edgy undercut and she has a piercing in one nostril that is new to all viewers. "Hey, kiddos! Leah Clearwater here and I'm about to make your day," she announces, then turns the camera back to the table. Her tone takes on a fake British accent. "As you can see, we've stumbled across a new phenomenon today - Swan's First Mukkbang, featuring special guests to help her eat this truly disgusting amount of food because she insisted it would be more fun that way. I really don't know why we haven't done this before. All Bella thinks about is food and Mas-"

At this, Bella gifts the camera - or rather the person behind the camera - with a dry look. "I only insisted after you said the viewers wouldn't want to see me throw up after eating so much. Not that that would happen," she adds, now looking directly at the camera. "I know my limits."

"Okay, fine, I insisted. Whatever. You still could have ordered less food," Leah needles, dropping her accent.

Bella frowns. "If I ordered less food, then the Eat Around The World Challenge wouldn't be met."

"You could have ordered one dish from each place," Leah tells her.

Bella blinks, appearing truly dumbfounded. "But how would I be able to choose? All the food is so good..."

Rose Hale snorts. "How you aren't the size of a house is a true scientific mystery. Your metabolism must be ridiculous. Did you make a deal with the devil?"

Before Bella can respond, Esme Cullen cuts in. "My God," she says with feeling, dipping forward to take a deep whiff of the steaming food, her eyes fluttering closed briefly. "This smells so good, and so, so forbidden. I'm breaking all the rules of my diet tonight, girls."

"What diet?" Alice asks, genuinely confused. "Esme, you don't need to be on a diet."

Esme pats Alice's hand. "It's just the diet of being married to a doctor. Healthy eating is the key to a healthy life," she quotes. Esme pauses, then glances at the camera nervously. "Maybe he shouldn't know about this video..."

Alice giggles.

"Pass the Vietnamese," Rose says, holding out her hands.

Bella and Alice, who are seated most closely to the assortment of Asian food, search the table.

"Vietnamese," Bella mutters. "Did we put that to the north or south of China?"

"It was east of Korea," Alice says.

"Is Vietnam east of Korea?" Bella wonders. "I thought it was south, maybe..."

Alice shrugs. "Why else would we put it there?"

"Oh, for the love of -" Leah and the camera stutter forward and point down at the dead-center of the collection of Asian food. "Here. This is the Vietnamese food! Rose, your pho."

"Why, thank you, Lee Lee," Rose says with a wry look, taking the paper bowl passed to her.

"Call me Lee Lee one more time, Hale," Leah warns.

Rose smiles beatifically.

Food is distributed from there. Leah takes the time to get a birds-eye view of the table, which has a laminate world map spread under dozens of take-out containers. The food itself, however, is not quite as organized by country of origin as it should be. To viewers, it seems like the goal of organizing the food collapsed somewhere around the Mediterranian - Leah makes a joke about the fall of Rome being so typical that has all the others groaning. Between all of that, Leah narrates the point of the Eat Around The World Challenge, which is going viral among YouTubers lately and which Bella had evidently been more or less easily persuaded to participate in.

The cross-talk while one-fourth of the food is demolished is random, but no less entertaining. There's a lot of teasing about the chili sauce Bella insists on putting on most of her food, Alice tries lamb without realizing it's lamb and spends a good few minutes freaking out about it, and Rose and Leah wind up in a convoluted food-trade that Bella immediately claims is cheating.

"Uh, it's not cheating if we aren't the ones participating in the challenge, you walnut," Leah tells her.

"She's right," Rose agrees. "You're technically the only one here who has to complete the challenge. We, on the other hand, can trade as much as we like."

Bella sticks her tongue out. "Semantics."

Rose lifts a brow. "I guess you don't want my samosa, then?"

"I do!" Bella says quickly, making grabbing hands, wiggling her fingers eagerly as if to encourage the food to be passed over faster.

Leah laughs loudly behind the camera. "You're such a glutton!"

Bella nods. "When God was handing out deadly sins, I got gluttony," she teases.

"I got lust," Rose claims.

"Envy for me," Alice admits.

"Esme?" Bella prompts.

"Greed, maybe."

"And what about me?" Leah wonders. "What sin is left for me?"

The answers "Pride" and "Wrath" come at the same time, and all the women look at each other. Leah, meanwhile, declares that it's unfair she gets multiple sins but also it's probably true.

They go back to eating after that, although still not quietly. The conversation continues in a meandering vein as the food slowly disappears. The speed of the eating is significantly cut down, with Bella holding out the longest until she too, at last, seems to give up. Rose and Alice, who had been keeping track of the dishes Bella consumed, declare that she's met the challenge. Bella lets out a little cheer, then makes a face and pats her stomach, apparently too full to be happy about it.

"God, I miss college," Esme says after her last bite. She pushes away from the table and breathes out heavily. "All the crazy things you kids eat."

"You kids," Rose parrots with a scoff.

"You're not even thirty, Esme!" Alice says brightly. "And a young-looking thirty, at that! What cream are you using? Or is it a serum?"

Esme smiles. "Wedded bliss is all I need to look this good."

"Foul!" Leah cries from behind the camera. "We agreed no innuendos!"

"How is wedded bliss an innuendo?" Rose wonders.

"Don't play dumb," Leah tells her. And then to Esme, she says, "Pay the penalty, Mrs. Cullen."

Esme doesn't appear bothered at all, lifting her chin with a saucy smile. "Oh, I would love to pay the penalty. it's been a while since I got any good liquor -"

"Wait!" Bella says, stopping Alice from pouring what looks to be a genuine bottle of rice wine. Bella looks at Esme with a shrewd sort of stare, squinting her eyes a bit. "...Can you even have this?"

Esme stares back, uncomprehending. "It's the penalty."

"Yeah, but..." Bella hedges, heat rising on her cheeks.

"What Bella means to ask," Rose cuts in impatiently. "Is if you have a bun in your oven."

Esme bursts out laughing. "Oh, dear God, no. No, no we aren't expecting. We've only been married for less than a year."

"Accidents happen," Bella mumbles, removing her hand from hovering over Esme's shot glass so Alice can pour the liquor.

Esme makes a sound of interest. "Oh? Is that so? Accidents happen, do they? Anything we should know about, Bella?"

Bella's face immediately flames bright red. "No!" she spits out. "No, I'm not - we - that isn't -"

"Gross," Leah calls from behind the camera, making a retching sound. Her bronzed hand comes into view, snapping and pointing at both Esme and Bella. "You two, pay the penalty."

"Gladly," Esme says, tossing back one glass and holding it out to Alice to refill.

Bella makes a wounded face. "That's not fair! I wasn't the one who -"

"Penalty!" Leah declares.

Bella rolls her eyes and grudgingly takes the shot that Alice helpfully pours for her. As soon as she takes the shot, her entire face scrunches into one of intense distaste and she quickly slams the glass onto the table, fighting off a full-body shudder. "Ugh, so strong," she complains.

"It's a little weak," Esme disagrees.

Bella gapes at her.

"Well, I want to try it now!" Alice declares, pouring her own glass.

Rose presses a palm to her face when Alice promptly tries to spit it out, unsuccessfully. "Babe, when are you going to learn? You do best with fruity drinks."

Alice grimaces. "I know that now. I really, really know that now."

Bella closes her eyes and joins Esme in looking more miserable than not. "This was a mistake," Bella says. "I have regrets."

Leah snorts. "Do you hear that, viewers? Swan actually regrets the challenge! Do you think this means I win?"

"Yes," Bella says, opening her eyes a slit. "You win the worst sister ever award."

"Is it a trophy or a medal?" Leah immediately asks.

"I will throw something at you," Bella threatens tiredly. "A napkin. Or a shoe."

Leah scoffs, and so does Rose. "Your aim is so shitty," Rose says.

Bella pouts.

Leah turns the camera around for a final time, this time holding it far enough away from her face that she can get a good selfie-style angle that captures the rest of the women. Leah smiles broadly, a little smugly, at the camera and says, "The Eat Around The World Challenge is being done in support of ending global hunger initiatives. If you liked watching Swan eat herself stick, please follow this link to donate to the cause. You can also join the challenge yourself to generate more interest using the hashtag. Check out the notes included after the video for more information!"

The video ends as all five women wave at the camera, and then the screen fades to a black screen directing viewers to The Borgen Project to check out other worldwide hunger and poverty initiatives.)

* * *

**A/N: #EatAroundTheWorld is not an actual challenge, but it could be! Some viral challenges have a good habit of generating money for charity, so if you stumble across a viral challenge, make sure you try to find if the challenge is connected to a worthy cause or not. The Borgen Project, on the other hand, is a real non-profit, and I'm encouraging everyone to check out their activism, which in part helps encourage American legislators to support global poverty and hunger initiatives. It's an important cause that highlights many community outreach, non-profits, and programs that lift poverty-stricken areas out of poverty with access to clean water, medicine, food, education, and refuge. I actually interned for the Borgen Project last year and it taught me a lot about how instrumental legislative budgeting is in keeping life-saving programs running across the globe. We all do better when we're all doing good! The Borgen Project has resources that help you identify and get into contact with your specific Senators and Representatives (about all kinds of issues) - just know that you'll have to send emails about 3 to 7 times to get a response.**

**Okay, so! You may have noticed the timestamp on this video! It takes place 1 year from the current time in the story (2020, as of chapter 24), which means everyone is 1 year older. I said several chapters back that the YouTube chapters were going to be different and this is what I meant - from this point forward, all YouTube chapters are going to be future-takes of events that happen after the story-proper is concluded. I'm shooting for a non-chronological timeline instead of just putting futuretakes after the epilogue. If I do it right, then I hope (when the story is read as a whole) that these YouTube chapters will signal certain changes within the story proper - the pivotal point, of course, being that Bella and Masen have exchanged their I-Love-Yous, which solidifies their future together. We're entering happy ending territory, readers.**

**I really hope experimenting with it like this won't be confusing. It probably will be better when read as a whole, but *shrugs*. Anyway! Let's explain some stuff!**

**A mukkbang is a portmanteau of two Korean words for "meokneun" (eating) and "bangsong" (broadcast) and is pretty much an entire genre of videos on YouTube. Most YouTubers do at least one, and there are plenty of YouTubers that do mukkbangs exclusively. You can think of a mukkbang as a one-sided conversation while someone or multiple people eats a ridiculous amount of food and interacts with viewers, usually by chat but also sometimes by comments. It's like the opposite of a cooking show, actually - it's an eating show! Mukbang videos are an internet staple at this point, but they aren't for everyone, just like ASMRs aren't for everyone.**

**I should probably explain that ASMRs is another type of video, usually found again on YouTube, that are essentially just random videos of random things that are supposed to be relaxing set to relaxing music or other auditory output. ASMR stands for autonomous sensory meridian response, which is that tingly feel-good (or brain massage) feeling you get when something is really nice or relaxing or pleasing to you in some way. Common ASMRs are of calligraphy, tea making, showing off nifty devices, animals being cute, making art, crafting or building, virtual tours, hair dying and styling videos, nail art, power washing things clean, etc. Lots of people watch ASMRs to go to sleep and, yeah, some YouTubers do make a killing out of making high-quality ASMRs.**

**The internet is a wild, wonderfully strange place. And this makes two notes where I explain niche internet videos!**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, and stay healthy.**

**~Rae**


	58. chapter 25

**[chapter_25]**

"What the fuck is wrong with Peter?" Emmett wonders, peering out the wide back office window facing out to the office proper. He's been standing there, arms crossed and expression befuddled, for the last ten minutes instead of actually discussing whatever it is that brought him into Masen's office in the first place.

Masen hopes it isn't their third-party promotional team, but it probably is. Setting up Menagerie's marketing for release is proving to be twice as complicated as Pagan Immortals, largely because Midnight Sun now has a reputation that requires them to have a certain measure of pomp and circumstance. Masen doesn't mind that part, knowing that a huge part of creating a brand is creating a brand culture - and he's invested in making Midnight Sun's culture is innovative, quick-paced, and future-forward, which means all of their promotional tools need to be in the same gear. But what this means in the practical sense is that Masen is doing a lot of hand-holding via Emmett to make sure that the details are lined up the way they need to be. These days, Emmett doesn't come to him with a lot of non-frustrating news.

Or, as it happens, a whole lot of focus, either.

Not that Masen is any different, considering he is currently also watching the real-life show from the relative peace of his office. He's wheeled his desk chair to be not-quite center to the computer screen, giving him just the right angle to watch as Peter, for what must be the tenth time this week, hastily retreats from K.O., face flushed and stammering. The pattern usually goes something like this: Peter and K.O. will be huddled together as normal, Peter will inevitably make a bald-faced, likely accidental innuendo, K.O. will stare, Peter will realize what he's said, and then lurch away, stumbling over his feet with a nervous laugh and, in a high-pitched tone of poorly-veiled panic, will make a flimsy excuse to disappear himself, all while K.O. watches silently. And then when Peter is gone, K.O. will look down and beetle his brows at his shoes for several moments before getting back to whichever task Peter had interrupted.

The first few times of watching this had been, frankly, baffling to the extreme. But now that Masen has sussed out the pattern, he can't help but be a little annoyed by the distraction of it. He is alone in this, of course, as the people around him, Bella included, are mostly sympathetic to Peter's prolonged bout of gay panic. Masen, on the other hand, thinks it only makes a troublesome amount of sense that Peter's sexual awakening would be just as long-winded as Peter is himself.

At least Peter - and K.O., for that matter - are meeting deadlines. For that reason only, Masen puts up with the distraction and files it under office entertainment for the most part. Had it been disruptive to the company goal in any way, he would have been inclined to intercede somehow. As it is, he resigns himself to patience with the whole thing, figuring it surely won't take much longer for the situation to be sorted.

K.O is the decisive type, after all, and Peter has never been able to brag about any type of stamina before.

"He's being so weird these days. Weirder than normal," Emmett amends, continuing his observation. Now that the show is mostly over, everyone else in the office gets back to work and pointedly ignores Peter, who is standing in front of the open refrigerator, obviously flustered and thankfully silent about it.

"Mm," Masen agrees, because yes, Peter is being more weird than usual.

He's somewhat surprised that Emmett hasn't put two and two together, yet, but of course, Emmett is dealing with his own kind of distraction. It seems Rose Hale has set her mind to shaking up Emmett's entire world, starting with a heavy critique of his investment choices that have kept Emmett in the office after-hours for a full week, speaking with Rose over speakerphone while she pushes him to take calculated stock risks. The constant, if not distant, exposure has at least cured Emmett of his stuttering around the woman, but it has also largely kept Emmett fixated on his own relationship issues. Perhaps it isn't that surprising that he hasn't connected Peter's new behavior to Peter's blooming attraction - now obvious to all, himself included - to K.O., all things considered.

Masen grimaces privately. He's never been in the habit of caring this much about his friend's personal lives. But then, his own personal life has changed too, hasn't it? He is no longer the same Masen Cullen he was a year ago, or even six months ago. It isn't that he cares more about his friends than he did before - it's just that he's taken them into consideration in a different way, now that Bella's own gentleness toward her friends has influenced him.

Still, it's midweek and a business day, and Masen is determined to stay focused. He has his own deadlines to meet, and a lunch formally introducing his parents to his serious girlfriend on the weekend. He doesn't have any time to spare, not for this problem that will resolve itself eventually.

Instead, he aims for redirecting Emmett. "What did the promotional company say this time?"

Emmett, sensing it is the time to be serious, turns around and makes a face. "First," he says importantly. "I want to reiterate that we really need a PR team to handle this sort of thing because being the liaison is getting very old very quickly. Second, they sent in proofs for the email campaign that needs your approval, along with the hashtags and adds they want to use on social media. They also wanted to confirm the multiple channel outreach we're using and double-check that we really don't want to use SEO prior to release."

"SEO will generate itself organically," Masen answers because that's what he wants. Content marketing can be good for other businesses, but not for Midnight Sun - not yet. It's a slippery slope to pay for content strategists to generate interest because all too often that leads to paying for reviews. Other companies in the industry, especially overseas, have already gotten into hot water about that, and Masen would like to avoid that as much as possible. Let SEO happen as a result of public reporting and organic searches. He'd prefer it that way.

"That's what I told them," Emmett agrees, producing a folder to slide across the desk. "But they still asked again."

Masen makes a dismissive noise, opening up the folder and flipping through the proofs the promotional company has made. The designs look good, the copy content is solid and precise, and the channel plans are exactly as previously discussed. For once, Masen has no issues to bring up, so he slides the folder back to Emmet. "Looks good. Tell them to launch."

"Roger that, boss," Emmett says, heading toward the door. He stops, though, right before he leaves, turning back with a quizzical look. "Are we not going to do anything about Peter?"

"No," Masen answers bluntly.

Emmett lifts his brows, but nods anyway, and leaves to pass Masen's instructions along to the promotional company. Masen, for his part, turns back to his computer and the optimization code he and K.O. have been tooling to help drive down the strain on the graphics cards caused by highly-developed MMORPGs, a project that is slow-going and in continual development. When Masen is not working on this, then he is streamlining the coding that comes out of programming and engineering to make it as high-functioning as possible.

Idly, he hopes that this will be the last Peter's problems will be verbalized, and goes about the next few days in the same focused vein. But if Masen thought that intently focusing on business would mean the end of hearing about the new tension between Peter and K.O., then he is sorely mistaken because it takes less than an hour on Friday for Emmett and the others to try to rope Bella into the middle of it all. As his office has been overtaken by an impromptu meeting following Peter's latest display of innuendo-blush-and-retreat, Masen resigns himself to listening with a flat, mildly interested expression. The sooner this inane babble is over with, the sooner he can get back to work.

"Someone should talk to him," Emmett is pontificating. "I have a bet to win and he's dragging his feet."

"Hard pass," Liam says.

"Not in this lifetime or the next," Alistair agrees. "Especially if it means I win the bet."

Emmett flips Alistair off then shoots a look at Masen, and Masen responds with a quick and flat, "No."

Bella frowns at them, seeming to disregard the bet commentary. "Is Peter okay?"

Charles gestures in the direction of the office floor. "You did see that, right?"

Bella purses her lips, looking thoughtful. "Yes. Well, he's clearly dealing with something."

Emmett claps, once. "Right. That's right! He's dealing with something and I am so glad you noticed because you're the exact right person to talk to him about it!"

Bella blinks twice, then huffs. Her hands land on her hips. "You're just saying that because I'm the only girl here!"

"Listen, Bella," Liam tries. "We're men, and we don't really talk about things like this."

"That is a lie," Bella declares. "You talk about these things all the time. I've seen the group chat."

"Which group chat?" Emmett challenges. "Midnight Sunners is for serious stuff. Mostly!"

Bella smiles, a tad too sweet. "I'm talking about the other group chat."

Alistair smirks, elbowing Bella so they can share a conspiratorial look. Emmett misses this exchange and turns to Masen with accusation. "Masen! You can't show her that! You broke the code!"

Masen looks at him, blank-faced. "What code?"

Emmett sputters.

Alistair, meanwhile, has been watching Bella's expression nearly as intently as Masen has, and has surely seen the resolve that has settled on her delicate, freckled features. "Bella," he cautions. "I have to advise against this. You don't need to talk to Peter. Nobody does. We don't really talk about these things seriously."

"Well," she says, her tone chilly. "Maybe that's the problem!"

Bella departs in a flurry of the most annoyance Masen has ever witnessed from her. It's a mild sort of annoyance, the type one might get from being fed up with pestering, but still - to see it from his Bella is somewhat surprising. He stares after her, briefly wondering if she will follow through and talk to Peter, but she bypasses Peter completely and leaves the building from the lobby, likely seeking air.

Masen frowns. He has, by now, a key insight into how Bella's mind works, and he easily deduces that her mood is not only because of this tiny incident. Something else is bothering her to the point of interfering with her temperament, and Masen can't let that stand. He's her boyfriend and he has made a promise to himself - and to her, even if silently - to support her in all things.

"Mase, shouldn't you...?" Emmett trails off, seeing Masen already in motion, following the path Bella has taken. "Well, alright then," he hears Emmett say behind him. "Back to work, I guess, fellas..."

He finds Bella outside, arms crossed as she paces the same length of the sidewalk curve, balancing on the edge one foot in front of the other. Her cheeks are flushed from the wind, getting chillier by the day, and her expression is set into a troubled moue, her bottom lip poked out and red from her teeth. He makes a point to stand in her path, hands in his pockets, and she comes to a stop when she meets his obstacle.

Comforting another person isn't a skill Masen has ever bothered to cultivate. Even with his family, he tends to be the rational voice of reason undercutting emotional exchanges, which doesn't put him in the position to do anything else but offer actionable suggestions on how to deal with an issue. He has found, with Bella, that remaining distanced from emotional distress is something that does not work, largely because he wants to help with her emotional needs. This has led to Masen floundering on more than one occasion, although he feels some pride in the fact that he can, at the very least, know how to comfort her tears, as it seems to be an instinctual response.

Moodiness, however, is another issue entirely. Granted he has only known her for just half a year, but in all that time he has always known her to be level-headed. She balances stress and time commitments well. She has a long fuse and allows others to try her patience out of politeness. The most open she is with anyone are her friends and, he likes to think, himself. He will not fool himself into thinking he knows all her moods or that she has not been upset in the time he has known her - but even still, this is the first time he has personally seen her so upset.

And he wonders at the reason.

The toes of her shoes nearly bump his when she comes to a stop. She looks up at him, tension in her brow.

"Peter just needs time," Masen tells her. "You don't need to talk to him."

"I know that," she says on a sigh. "He's not nearly as helpless as the others think."

Masen knows that. Peter is often annoying and loud, but he still has a keen mind and more sensibility than most people would assume. Sexual identity crisis aside, Masen doesn't foresee any issues about Peter that are any true cause of concern. He is colder than his friends, in this way, because he is not as driven as they are to resolve Peter's issues for him. Masen sees no reason to intercede; Peter will figure this out. He's gratified to know Bella, who can be very sweet, agrees with him.

"You are upset," he observes, pressing forward.

"Not about Peter," she tells him.

Yes, he's gathered that by this point.

He lifts his brows, a silent prod for more information.

Bella pushes her plush lips into a pout and looks away, up at the sky. "It's my guild," she says after a beat, letting out a humorless laugh. "I feel silly being upset by it still, but - well, you remember Cherry Lane? And the video that Queen V and Relentless submitted to the video contest? It turns out their little group is going to be joining Illuminating Lotus in a few days. And the trouble is already brewing."

By trouble, he surmises she means gossip. The internet may have a short attention span, but its memory is long, and he doubts anyone has forgotten the debacle with the video contest entry, which had fueled gossip on the DOW forum for weeks. His own surprise at this news must be poorly concealed on his face - or Bella has gotten very good at reading him - because her expression twists into a grimace.

"It's a small world, right?" she asks facetiously, shaking her head. "That's what I thought, too, but Janeway cleared that right up. Lately, Illuminating Lotus has swung up the guild ranks, meaning we've got an influx of new members. It makes sense that a popular guild would draw popular players, but according to Janeway, Relentless chose my guild specifically - and gossip about that is already getting out of control."

Masen can imagine. An ex in-game spouse joining the same guild, apparently on purpose? Any gossip mill would happily eat up that kind of fodder, and the DOW public chat is teeming with drama-seeking chatterboxes. Masen doesn't care about gossip himself, as it can be useful when used correctly, but he knows that Bella is different. He can easily see the lingering hurt she must be feeling over that insipid video just as clearly as he can see how stressing this news is to her - he dislikes both on principle.

Masen isn't sure what words he can offer, if any, to comfort her - so he bypasses words altogether, gently gathering Bella into his arms until she is tucked snugly beneath his chin, her arms clutching onto the back of his shirt. She presses her forehead into his collarbone, her warm breath washing through starched cotton to sear him right to the bone.

"I hate gossip," she mutters.

"Mm."

He knows this is not the end of it, but for now, there is nothing more to do. He's certain his instinct to recommend she drop out of the guild herself would be poorly received by Bella, who has a subtle stubborn streak a mile or two wide. She will stay until she wants to leave, and that's the end of it. And it's not really his place to guide her in a direction he thinks is most favorable.

He will just support her in all things, even this.

* * *

**Alistair the Recluse ʘratherbealone  
**i don't want and i don't need to know any of this about my friends. please. #spareme

**L Clearwater ʘClearlyFlimingThis  
**Is that tea I smell? Spill it! **ʘratherbealone**

**Alistair the Recluse ʘratherbealone  
**let's just say my walls are, unfortunately, rather thin and someone is, also unfortunately, rather loud

**L Clearwater ʘClearlyFlimingThis**  
Nevermind, I don't want to know. Now you #spare me

* * *

Bella really wishes Janeway wasn't bombarding her with news, but at the same time, she'd rather know than not know what's coming next. It's worth the anxiety now to be prepared for the inevitable when it happens. The only thing is, Bella can already kind of see where the inevitable is going to lead and she really hopes she's wrong because she knows herself well enough that she'll give up ground rather than drag herself headfirst into a confrontation - and unfortunately, this time, that would mean giving up a place she has worked hard to achieve.

Maybe outside of the game, it would be different. Maybe outside of the game, she would dredge up some gumption to fight tooth and nail for something that is hers, but as it is, no matter how much she loves the game and the guild, she only really has so much energy in a day. Right now all of her energy is dedicated to the internship-that-didn't-end and getting through this first semester of her junior year, which is proving to be more of a challenge than she first thought - more of a workload than she first thought. She's lucky she has any time to game; she doesn't really have the energy to be over-concerned with whatever drama is brewing up with the guild and the game chat room.

She tells all of this to Janeway, who returns with more gossip. Of course.

**》Swansong:** run that by me again

**《 Janeway:** i said Relentless bought his way in

**《 Janeway:** it's all over the public chat

**《 Janeway:** i mean, apparently he's super rich IRL

**《 Janeway:** but why did it have to be our guild? ugh

Bella leans back, frowning at her computer screen. Swansong is shifting from toe-to-toe in the idle stance of an avatar that isn't being put into play and Bella studies the movement for a moment more than she really needs to. Because Janeway has a point - of all the guilds around, why Illuminating Lotus? Why buy into Swansong's guild?

She feels awfully and completely self-centered for even entertaining the thought. It's not about her. Knowing Relentless, he smells an opportunity and he's waiting to stike - there's certainly another contest up on the forum, a battle competition that she would participate in any other time, except right now she's too busy for it. The battle competition requires a rotating roster of other players, at least three each battle, and the best way to have access to players who are willing to play that role is to be part of the guild. Illuminating Lotus is one of the top guilds on the NorCal server. It makes sense to join, especially if that's Relentless' aim.

And it's not as if Queen V or any of her casual gamer friends, like Cherry Lane, are really up to the task. Relentless presumably still has standards about who he'll partner with for competitions.

**》Swansong:** good for him then

**《 Janeway:** omg of course you're going to be like that

**》Swansong:** like what

**《 Janeway:** taking the moral high ground or wtvr!

**《 Janeway:** do you ever get tired of being so good?

Bella doesn't think she's particularly good. She's average in just about everything, with a few notable exceptions. Pride has never been her downfall; she knows where she shines and where she could use some buffing. Hubris will not strike her down.

**》Swansong:** I just don't have the time to worry about it now

Except that she is worrying, a little. This news strikes her as an ominous turn, which is silly because there's no reason to feel that way. With the exception of that video, she and Relentless parted on good, if not neutral, terms; she and Queen V have never even interacted directly; and as far as she knows, Cherry Lane is over what happened in the canyon. There shouldn't be any problems - and yet...

She's overthinking it.

**》Swansong:** it is what it is, you know?

**《 Janeway:** you're so damn zen

**《 Janeway:** teach me your ways

**》Swansong:** okay

**》Swansong:** step one

**》Swansong:** be very busy

**《 Janeway:** i'm busy!

**《 Janeway:** well. i'm a busy body.

**《 Janeway:** it's basically the same thing

**》Swansong:** LOL

The conversation tapers off from gossip after that, thankfully, with Janeway drilling her about the new patch that has been applied to the game and all the deliciously cool updates that have come from it. Apparently Janeway wants help completing a new quest that popped up on her level, and Bella agrees to schedule a game date, figuring she can use the new quest in her next Twitch stream.

She puts the guild and it's new members out of her mind. There's nothing she can do about that. No sense worrying about something that hasn't - and probably won't - happen.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Paparazzi  
Good luck with the inlaws sis!

Sleep Talker  
they aren't my inlaws

Paparazzi  
oh bless  
she really believes that

Thorny  
it's like watching the first  
5 minutes of Bambi

Sleep Talker  
can you use a different comparison

Thorny  
why, because Bambi's mom died?  
and it's sad because Masen's actual  
mom is acutally dead?

Sleep Talker  
yes, that would be why

Short Cake  
Oh okay!  
what about the first 5 minutes of  
Legally Blonde?

Thorny  
before Warner showed his ass?

Sleep Talker  
that's not a good comparison either!

Paparazzi  
amateurs  
sis  
it's going to be like the first  
15 minutes of the Princess Diaries  
and that one has a happy ending

Thorny  
uh wtf they all have happy endings

Paparazzi  
what part of Bambi was happy to you!?

Thorny  
all of it?  
all of it!

Short Cake  
Legally Blonde was happy!

Sleep Talker  
yeah  
but happy with Angst  
Princess Diaries had Angst too  
why are movies like this?

Short Cake  
oh i guess that's true  
that's why the second LB  
was better

Paparazzi  
hold the fuck up  
what  
no it wasn't

Short Cake  
Yes it was!  
Bruiser got a boyfriend!

Paparazzi  
the first one was the best  
Paula punched her dick for brains ex!  
sequels always suck  
ask anyone

Thorny  
i see your claim  
and I raise you the second  
Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants  
totally better than the first

Paparazzi  
no it wasn't!

Sleep Talker  
what is happening

Short Cake  
i think they forgot about you  
Leah just threw a pillow at  
Rose's head  
oh, there goes the laundry basket  
i just folded those  
:(

Sleep Talker  
should I come back?  
i can come back

Short Cake  
you're fine!  
you'll be okay!  
just trust Masen  
and good luck!

Sleep Talker  
thank you  
also  
the second Bambi was better  
than the first

Short Cake  
fighting words!

Sleep Talker  
lol

* * *

Masen opts to take the company car to the lunch with his parents - due both to the weather forecast and the promise of a quick escape, should it be necessary. He doesn't think it will be, but he's forced to reassess when he gets a glimpse of how nervous Bella seems to be. She's dressed with a certain amount of care, still casual but obviously trying to present herself in a specific way, pairing high-waisted skinny jeans with a slouching cream sweater tucked into the front waistband and flat leather boots, scuffed on one toe from where she walked into the curb trying to get into the car when he picked her up at the west campus gates. Her only accessories are his bracelet and a nervous smile stained with a subtle hint of color. Her hair is as wavy as ever, but the frizz has been tamed and the scent of argan oil is just barely noticeable.

He holds her hand over the center console, fingers weaved together. "We can cancel," he offers as the car idles at a stoplight.

Her hand squeezes his. "No," she says, shaking her head with a determined frown. "There's nothing to worry about. I'm just being silly. I've already met your mom. She's nice."

"Mm."

Anne Cullen is nice, which she proves by immediately drawing Bella into a hug as soon as they amble inside of the Italian restaurant just after one. Anne greets Bella with such effusiveness that Masen casts a side-eye to his father, who is watching the scene with an indulgent sort of smile. Noticing Masen's questioning gaze, Thomas leans closer and says, "Your mother is very excited. It's not that we worried you would be lonely, son, but..."

But that had been exactly what his parents had worried about - and of course, they would, given Masen's general lack of enthusiasm for getting close to other people, let alone having intimate, non-familial relationships. Truth be told, if it weren't for Bella and the specific set of characteristics that draw him to her, he likely would have remained alone, celibate, and unromantic and perfectly happy for it. But Bella breaks all kinds of barriers, not just in her enthusiastic creativity, but also within him.

He grants his parents leeway for this, understanding that much of their happiness is bound in relief as well. Carlisle they never worried about. Masen, on the other hand, gave them more cause to worry than he ever intended, likely as part and parcel of being an adopted child.

At least they can rest assured in this - after all, Masen is fully committed to this relationship and he senses Bella is, as well. This is the only meeting of the parents that he will endure, aside from meeting Bella's, that is, whenever the time comes.

Masen manages to extract Bella from Anne's gentle-mannered clutches as they are being led to their seats. Anne waits for only a beat after they are seated before continuing her questioning, which is more or less a quest for information on what Bella plans to do with her degree, if Bella thinks what she learned from Anne's class will help, why Bella chose to take Anne's class as an elective, a story from Bella's childhood that ties into one of Bella's assignments that Anne was apparently so impressed by she actually remembered, just shy of three months later. It actually takes Masen several moments to track that his mother is effortlessly teasing Bella's entire life story out of her while also putting Bella at ease.

It's a masterful manipulation of conversation. Masen immediately wants to learn this skill and settles in to observe, understanding that his mother's earnestness is genuine but her people skills are unrivaled by anyone he has ever met. He would do well to emulate her in this.

Thomas occasionally tosses in his own commentary and questions, which Bella answers with that dazzling smile of hers, her green eyes dancing as she relaxes into the atmosphere. She sends him a few sheepish glances after they have placed their orders, a silent message of I can't believe I was nervous about this. Masen lifts his brows and tilts a smirk in her direction in response.

"So, how did you two meet?" Anne finally gets around to asking after they've been served.

Her question interrupts Bella, who has been inhaling the scent of her mushroom-spinach ravioli with a pleased smile as she unrolls her cutlery from a napkin; the question makes Bella fumble, her fork clanging against the table. Bella blushes fiercely.

"Was it on campus?" Anne wonders.

"Anne," Thomas says.

Anne waves him off. "Oh, hush. You know Masen never tells us anything." Anne turns back to Bella, delicately cutting into pan-seared lemon chicken, an expression of polite inquiry on her face. "So? Was it on campus? You're a junior now, aren't you? In the same department?"

"Online," Bella blurts out, and then promptly looks mortified. She ducks her head, face as red as he's ever seen it. "I mean - we met online by gaming, not on, like, a dating app. We met gaming online."

Masen makes a thoughtful noise, considering.

Bella looks at him. "What do you mean, hmm?" she whispers.

Masen rolls his shoulders once, then examines the best way to tackle the truly gargantuan meatballs on his plate. "We didn't meet online."

Bella frowns at him. "What? Yes, we did. That's where we met - in the game."

"I first saw you at the internet cafe," he informs her.

"That doesn't count."

"No?"

"No," Bella says emphatically, a smile now tugging at the corner of her mouth. She's exasperated with him, which is exactly what he wanted. She's forgotten her embarrassment. "No, it doesn't count because there wasn't a verbal exchange."

Masen lifts a brow. "Then our meeting online doesn't count either," he points out. "No verbal exchange."

Bella stares at him in dismay. "What are you talking about? Chatting counts as a verbal exchange."

"Does it?"

Bella huffs at him. "Masen Cullen, I know you're messing with me now. If you didn't think that text didn't count as a verbal exchange, then you wouldn't be able to use the group chats as leverage to make Peter meet deadlines."

"Mm."

"You're very funny," she tells him.

His parents, meanwhile, have begun to openly smile at the exchange, his mother even laughing politely into her napkin. Masen is marginally pleased, largely because it means that his Bella has finally relaxed, the tightness in her shoulders loosening, her hold on her cutlery less tense. Masen spares a private smile for himself, aimed mostly at his plate, and takes his first bite.

It's good. Savory, heavy on tomato and garlic and basil, the pasta pleasantly taut. He swallows, and goes to take another bite, and then frowns. His mouth itches.

Actually, his mouth itches quite a bit. And his throat. And his tongue.

Masen clears his throat, puts his silverware down, and reaches for his glass of water. The sip does nothing at all to wash the irritation away and, as he feels the tell-tale throb of his skin and the catch in his throat, he knows with absolute dread that he is - inexplicably - having an allergic reaction to his food. These are meatballs, which means there shouldn't be any shellfish - and yet.

Masen coughs into his fist, turning his head away, and brings the attention of the entire table onto him.

Thomas, sitting closer and having been the front-row witness of many of Masen's food allergy reactions, is the first one to notice. "Son," Thomas says urgently, leaning around the table corner. "Do you have your pen?"

Masen nods, patting at his pocket where he usually keeps his Epi-Pen, but his pocket is empty. It shouldn't be. He always makes sure to have one on him whenever he leaves home, especially if he's going to be eating in a restaurant where possible cross-contamination may happen, which is what he suspects caused this allergic reaction. But his pocket is empty. He remembers putting the pen in his pocket, but it must have fallen out, maybe in the car.

Is there time to send someone out to get the pen? No. He can feel his throat closing up. It's becoming more difficult to breathe. There isn't time. And it might not be easy to find, or maybe it's damaged, or -

Masen coughs, and tries to say, Call 911, but the words don't come out.

Fortunately, both Thomas and Anne are already pulling their phones out, Anne coming around to circle the table. There are eyes from other restaurant patrons on them and at least two waiters are hovering anxiously around. Thomas is on the phone, his call connecting first.

It's all happening slowly, but quickly all the same. Masen turns his head toward Bella and finds her rummaging around in the little purse she's been carrying around today, her hasty movements causing a few personal feminine items to drop onto the table. Bella doesn't seem to care, as she lets out a quiet sigh of victory and from her purse emerges a familiar green Epi-Pen.

Masen stares and coughs, his brain moving more slowly than usual as he watches Bella read the label and struggle with the cap and then, with a determined frown, stab the pen right through his slacks so that the compressed needle pierces his flesh -

Masen coughs for several more minutes, but he can breathe more easily now. He draws in heavy breaths, relishing the air in his lungs, and finds he can't manage to tear his eyes off of Bella, or the fine tremor in her hands or the tears that glisten, unshed, in her eyes, or the way she offers him a tremulous smile. At some point, Anne has come around his chair, holding onto his shoulders in comfort, and off to the side he can hear Thomas alternate between updating emergency services about the situation and also berating the restaurant staff about the obvious cross-contamination in their kitchen - the words health code violation and lawsuit are thrown around, probably not quite as carelessly as bystanders would assume.

When Masen feels better able to speak, even with his throat still raw and fatigue setting in, he manages to push a question from his mouth. "Why?" he asks Bella.

She blinks at him twice, a little blankly before the question registers. She's clearly shaken as she looks down at the Epi-Pen, now empty, in her hand. "Oh," she says, her brow knit delicately together. "It's one of the spares from that drawer in your kitchen."

"When?"

"When did I start carrying it?" she clarifies, and when he nods, she answers with a blush. "I've had it for a while. I, uh, didn't use to wear purses before we met. Now I do."

He thought one might have been missing. Warmth not associated with his allergic reaction spreads through him - to think that his Bella had gone so far as to change one of her personal preferences just to make sure she had something he might need in case of emergency. Masen is robbed of all thought except for a thrumming appreciation for the thoughtfulness and gentleness of this girl.

Anne is similarly moved, if not more demonstrative. She rushes to pull Bella into another hug. "Oh, you darling girl," Anne gushes. "Thank you."

Bella looks at Masen with wide eyes over Anne's shoulder and Masen coughs into his fist to hide a smile of his own.

That's the last bit of piece for a while, of course. Masen is ushered to an ambulance to be checked out by EMTs, who insist he has to go to the emergency room to be checked out by a doctor. Masen, having been through this several times before, is resigned to the trip. His parents, of course, insist on following the ambulance, and Bella volunteers to ride with Masen. She held his hand through the entire EMT examination and doesn't seem keen to let go anytime soon.

Because he is admitted for anaphylactic shock, the next few hours are a blur of test results and observation. The ER doctor determines he'd only had a mild allergic reaction and, after another dose of epinephrine, Masen is allowed to return home. By the time he puts his street clothes back on, it's already getting dark and the lunch with his parents has turned into a day-long traumatic event; his eyes linger on the way Bella fidgets in the waiting room, biting her lip even as she talks quietly with his parents. As soon as he communicates he's ready to go, they all shoot onto their feet, anxious.

"I'm fine," he says, gaze straying again and again to Bella.

"Let me take you home, then," Thomas offers. "You too, Bella."

Masen agrees, but Bella, with a raspberry blush, says that she would rather go home later, after she's sure Masen is okay. She fiddles with her bracelet when she says it, looking up at him beneath her lashes, and he's helpless to do anything but agree with her. He'll send Alistair to get the company car later. It's fine. It's even fine that Anne is looking at Bella with stars in her eyes and Thomas has a quietly pleased expression now that things have been resolved.

His parents like his Bella.

Even with an allergic reaction mucking up the works, the day itself is good. Better than he anticipated.

After his parents drop them off, Bella helps Masen upstairs to the loft and spends the next fifteen minutes fussing over him until he changes into sweatpants and settled onto the couch and she's satisfied that he's had enough water. Masen allows her to direct him, wordlessly accepting her care, understanding that this is how she's deciding to cope with the event.

When she seems satisfied that he's okay - and after he's watched her take another Epi-Pen from his kitchen drawer to replace the one she just used, her brows raised pointedly at him as she does so - Bella settles onto the couch next to him. He's sitting with his back wedged into the corner, which gives her just enough room to tuck herself under his arm and squeeze her arms around his middle, her head on his chest.

They sit for a while and simply breathe. Masen takes one of her hands, pressing a kiss to the knuckles before slotting their fingers together. He closes his eyes, head leaning on the back of the couch, and takes stock of how his body feels. Mostly good, nothing a nap won't fix. Bella had been remarkably fast with the Epi-Pen. She'd almost certainly saved his life.

"Your parents are nice," she says after a long stretch of silence.

"Mm."

"Can I ask...?"

"Mm?"

Her voice is barely audible when she does speak, her green eyes watching him so carefully, like he might disappear if she even thinks of blinking. "Is it always so scary?"

Masen feels his entire self soften. He shifts, tenderly tucking her hair behind her ear. "I wasn't afraid today," he declares honestly, his own voice only just above a whisper.

He hopes she can hear the words that he leaves unspoken - that when he is with her, and that when she is with him, there is no reason to be afraid.

The way she smiles, just the slightest curve of her plush lips, makes him think she understands what he means.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, folks. So, this is the full Chapter 25. Updates are going to be sporadic at best and probably on a hiatus until my workload calms down - my projects at work are demanding and I just don't have the time. To be clear, I am NOT abandoning this story and it WILL be completed. I'm hoping I'll be able to get back to weekly updates sometime in September. You may want to check back in around mid-September to see if there are any new updates.**

**Too bad adults need money, huh?**

**Anyway!**

**For some technical bits, SEO stands for search engine optimization and is basically how content on websites pander to the algorithms on your common search engines, particularly Google and Bing. SEO works by tagging keywords; if you repeat the keyword enough times, then the relevance of the content will be increased, meaning the website can generate more organic clicks from being higher on search engine results. There are entire companies that cater to creating SEO content for websites to drive sales; when Masen is talking about organic searches, he's talking about specifically not paying a content mill to generate interest because he wants to build brand reputation through public reporting, first. Both ways are valid, although you have better luck with Door #2 if your product is unique.**

**Even if you use an Epi-Pen or other allergy medication for an allergic reaction, it's strongly recommended that you go to an ER for observation and further treatment. Allergies are weird and popular media representation (looking at you, Hitch) for an allergic reaction is grossly incorrect. Also, to bypass anyone looking for drama where there is none, no, Denali or Grandfather Cullen did not find a way to put shellfish in Masen's meatballs; restaurants are guilty of cross-contamination often enough that it's a true game of Russian Roulette for people with food allergies. Always be prepared, kids.**

I'm sure you can guess what I have to say about the state of America over the last two weeks. To sum it up, I'm deeply saddened, outraged, and disgusted; what happened in Wisconsin (both times) is beyond words and only reinforces the point of the protestors. Don't even talk to me about the actual politics happening on a certain side of the aisle - I'm too pissed for words, other than vote wisely and vote early. Also, spare a thought for Chadwick Boseman, who went out when he was shining the brightest and stood for all the right reasons.

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, and stay healthy. And get your damn flu shots - sooner rather than later.**

**~Rae**


	59. mr meeseeks

[mr. meeseeks]

Peter is a fucking mess. No, really. Like, Peter's not going to pretend he's ever in a put-together state since he spends about 90% of the time floating along whatever bullshit train his mind takes him down, but it's also not a lie that, as of now, he's just well and truly out of his loving mind.

He's spent the last five minutes - no, probably ten - staring at Garrett's hands. It's not like Garrett is even sitting by him, he's on the other side of the conference table by Masen, operating the laptop connected to the screen projector while Masen lectures them on some wild feat of programming he's determined to include in the Volturi demo. Peter is only half-listening because his eyes caught on Garrett's hands and it's like the single brain cell he owns just decided to stop working.

Garrett's hands are - well. Larger than Peter's, although not by much; his fingers are slender and strong-looking, nails trimmed nearly to the quick; the veins and tendons on the back of his hand flex with each stroke of the keyboard, drawing his attention to the jut of Garrett's wrist bone and the dusting of dark hair that crawls up his forearms and - and - Like. What the fuck. They're just hands, not that Peter's brain cell gives a fuck about that. Peter feels like dying a little bit when, right in the middle of the meeting, he imagines what those hands might feel like on his body, coughing like he's trying to hack up a lung and drawing the attention of the entire room to him.

Peter blusters out some bullshit excuse and flees the fucking room. He can't be trusted to share the same space as Garrett right now - he's just spent way, way too long objectifying the man's hands, for fucks sake!

They're, like, very attractive hands, but still.

Peter needs to get a grip. Needs to get back to normal - or, well, not normal, because internalized homophobia is not about to be his skit, but some kind of normal where he can actually look Garrett in the eye and not feel the urge boil out of his own skin. Or actually speak the words on his mind, which mostly amount to something like, "_You know that stupid no-homo thing everyone said back in middle school? Yeah, turns out that, for you, all the homo is intended. Yes-homo, please, and thank you."_

Even if Garrett was coming on to him in the food truck - he probably was right? It felt like he was! - Peter still doesn't need to be so obvious. He's a classy boy, mostly.

He does wonder what those hands would feel like, though, and it keeps him up all night. Literally. His dick has never been so sore, and some perverse part of him - fuck it, he's definitely more pervert than not - enjoys it. It's like all his chafing is worth it because it means he's growing as a person. It's a growing pain! And it kind of feels good, too? He didn't know he'd be into that, either. Is Garrett into that? He looks like he would be, looks like he'd be down for a little kink, looks like he'd love to hold Peter down with those strong, broad hands, sometimes, and wouldn't that be something? Peter would definitely -

Stop! Peter groans into his hands, turns over in his bed, pulls his pillow over his head, and tries to fill away the interest growing between his legs.

"You look like shit, dude," Emmett says to him the next morning. "Spend all night fapping again? You're going to get carpal tunnel."

Peter grunts, elbowing his way to their stupidly expensive coffee machine that he can only operate half the time.

Alistair raises a judgemental brow and leans away. "Did you even shower?"

Peter rinsed off. Soap might not have been involved, but he doesn't smell bad, he's pretty sure. Alistair is just British and prissy about shit like that. He says as much, even adding, "Some of us don't want to smell like whatever you use. What's the scent? Earl Grey Asshole?"

Emmett snorts, then pretends that he didn't when Alistair glares at him. "Peter said it, not me!" he defends himself.

Peter ignores their argument and tries to remember if today is one of Garrett's food-truck only days, or if he's going to be half in the office. It's not exactly the best thought to have, because his mind supplies him with a well-known image of Garrett in that tiny kitchen. Peter knows exactly what Garrett looks like when he's cooking, his flat expression softened by the way his shoulders relax and his mouth loosens, the way sweat will dot his forehead and he'll have to wipe it away with the back of his wrist and how sometimes that'll make his shirt climb up to show off his solid hips and that dark trail of hair Peter has a visceral need to follow - and maybe lick? - and -

Peter spills coffee all over the fucking counter, completely missing the cup. "Shit! Motherfucking monkey balls of fire!" he shouts, jerking back before the hot coffee can drip onto him, nearly dropping the carafe at the same time. Thank fuck its metal and not glass.

"Oh, good going Pete," Emmett drolls.

"Mop's in the closet," Alistair says helpfully, or it might have been helpful if the asshole didn't look completely amused by the scene.

Peter almost flings the nearly-empty carafe at them both, because fuck them a whole lot!

The day doesn't get better from there. Like, it doesn't get worse, exactly, but Peter isn't putting it on the list of best days of his life. It's relatively normal, except for the humiliating way he trips over his damn tongue when he winds up talking to Garrett. It had been going fine, mostly because Peter had been excited about a new line of code that melted two tricky parts of programming together and he'd been super eager to show it off to Garrett, who always appreciated Peter's progress like nobody else. So, that part had been normal, but then Garrett had taken a drink of water and Peter's eyes had been drawn helplessly to the bob of his throat as he swallowed and it had all gone downhill from there.

Why? Because Peter's dumb mouth had actually said, "You make swallowing look good."

Then Garrett's eyes had gone all dark and heated and he'd actually said, "Make it feel good, too."

And then between the heavy glug of his heart spreading a flash of heat through his body and Alistair happening to pass by at that exact moment with a_ not in the office comment_, Peter had the horrifying realization that he can't act normal around Garrett at all anymore. It's just not possible. He just can't do it. Not when Peter's saying things and not when Garrett is saying things back - and meaning the things he says.

Fortunately - maybe? - Masen ends up calling Garrett to the back office to work on their special project, so Peter kind of gets a reprieve for the rest of the day. But that doesn't mean he gets to live any of it down, because apparently there's some kind of bet going on and Emmett doesn't want to lose, so he corners Peter in the laundry closet at the end of the day and completely gives up the ghost, apparently having had enough of being patient.

"Look, man. As funny as it is watching you be so whipped and stupid, I've got money on the line," Emmett starts.

"Huh?" Peter's holding his underwear and hastily stuffs them in the washer. Emmett doesn't need to see evidence of Peter's shame. "What're you talking about?"

"Can you get your gay together, already? It's been long enough!"

Peter thinks it's maybe been two weeks. He squints at Emmett, trying to decide if he should be upset.

"I'm bi, probably," he says instead.

Emmett gives him a skeptical look. "You make too many sausage jokes for that to be true."

It's a fair point. But also not the point. "What bet are you talking about?"

"The one where your homoerotic romance happens sooner rather than later," Emmett says bluntly. "My time frame is up in two days and I'm sick of Allistair winning bets off me. So, what's the hold-up?"

Peter opens and closes his mouth several times. He thinks maybe he should be more bothered about his friends betting on his sexual identity crisis, but he just can't be bothered. He's literally washing sheets and underwear that were - ahem - part of that realization, most of it featuring various parts of Garrett's body that he hadn't thought were sexy but really, really are. He's so far past denial and, honestly, he's getting miffed at his own lack of cool.

Which is why he unloads on Emmett without a single ounce of shame.

"I feel like when Mr. Meseeks couldn't get two strokes off Jerry's golf game!" Peter bursts out.

Emmett startles, falters. "Uh, what-"

"Oh, my God, I can't even look at him without bad 70s porno bass-drops happening in my head!"

Emmett makes a face. "Well, that's-"

"I want to die! But just like Mr. Meeseeks, I can't die until I finish my job, and my only job right now seems to be getting Garrett's di-"

"Okay!" Emmett raises his voice, holding his hands up in the air and taking a wide step backward. "I get it! That's enough sharing!"

"Don't judge me!" Peter spits, shaking his finger at Emmett, unreasonably pissed and emotional. "I'm in the middle of my gay panic and you're betting on me! I'm vulnerable right now!"

"For fuck's sake," Emmett mutters. He rubs at the back of his head and tries not to look too awkward when he speaks. "Look, man. It was funny at first watching you realize all the flirting you've been doing for months, but now it's just kind of painful. You should just...I don't know, talk to the dude. He's terrifying to everyone except you and honestly, it kind of seems to me like he's waiting on you."

"You make it sound easy," Peter mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away. He's absolutely not pouting, except he kind of is.

"Pete, you're being shy for the first time in your life and it's freaking everyone out. The only one making it hard is you," Emmett points out, almost gently. And then he makes a face and warns, "If you make a dick joke about that, I'm going to throttle you."

The dick joke is admittedly right there, just waiting to be made, but Peter manfully and maturely avoids it. He can be serious if he wants to be, thank you very fucking much.

Still. Emmett makes a kind of good point, proving once and for all that he does have an actual brain hidden underneath all that dumb curly hair, and Peter actually spends the rest of the night thinking about it. Like. Okay, yeah, it is kind of his fault for being so awkward - but it's not because he wants to be! He just doesn't know how to act now! And it hadn't really occurred to him that he could just, like, act normally because the Big Gay (Or Maybe Bi) Revelation had felt to life-altering.

But, damn. He hasn't actually changed, other than coming to the realization that he's almost definitely got a hand kink. And maybe also a pain kink, potentially. He's still Peter. And Garrett is still Garrett. Like, fundamentally they are both the same.

They just also happen to want to be in each other's pants. Or at least Peter for sure wants to be in Garrett's and Garrett almost definitely wants to be in Peter's, but probably they should talk about that first before anything happens because consent is always important, even between two dudes!

Right? Right. They should talk. With actual words and a minimal amount of accidental innuendos.

Second-hand - and extremely belated - embarrassment hits him out of nowhere as he realizes he'd been making innuendos for months without realizing it. God only knows the kind of shit he said to Garrett without realizing it. No wonder Garrett snapped! Peter accidentally pushed him too far! It would be funny if Peter had done it on purpose, but the fact that he'd been unconsciously flirting (to use Emmett's word) with a man he only now realizes he's 100% interested in is just - it's -

Not even he has the words for it!

Peter groans and once again tries to suffocate himself with his pillow.

By the time the next morning rolls out, Peter has mostly made peace with being an embarrassing gremlin, because that is his lot in life and he will accept it. He's spent the entire night psyching himself out for talking to Garrett today about the whole thing - like, to clear the air, right? To get everyone on the same page, homoeroticism, and all.

Which is why Peter's first task of the day is to get his ass to Garrett's food truck for breakfast.

"You can do this, Pete," he psyches himself up, standing across the street from the food truck. He can see Garrett moving around, opening up the steel serving window, putting out the tables and chairs, effortlessly using those soul-crushing muscles to wreck Peter from 50 feet away. Peter licks his lips. "You can do this. You can totally do this."

By the time Peter is already standing in front of the food truck, waiting at the service window with his mouth clicking shut in the face of Garrett's early-morning scruff, it's already too late to realize he can't do this. He doesn't even know what he's supposed to do. He doesn't have a plan. He should have had a plan! A prepared speech or a joke or even the best way to say Hi!

But here he is and there Garrett is and all Peter can do is blurt, "Breakfast burrito! Share! With me!"

Garrett stares at him, then tilts his chin down. And maybe it's just Peter's dumb eyes, but he thinks he can maybe see a smirk tilting at Garrett's lips as he turns away and starts preparing Peter's order.

Peter collapses onto the nearest chair and quietly waits to die. Why is he like this?

Soon enough, Garrett comes out of the food truck with two spicy breakfast burritos, his stupidly handsome face once more like a stone as he hands Peter his share and settles on the chair beside Peter. Not the one across the table, but the one right beside him, close enough that their thighs are touching.

Peter swallows nervously, cramming a bit of the burrito in his mouth. Okay. Okay, he can do this. He chews and swallows and eyes Garrett out of the corner of his eye - and promptly zeros in on a splotch of salsa verde resting on Garrett's bottom lip.

Peter's mouth goes dry and his mouth, predictably, starts moving without any input from his brain. "You've, uh, you've got something. On your mouth."

Garrett's dark eyes flicker over Peter's face as he slowly, deliberately licks at his lip, clearing away the salsa.

Peter feels his face burn and Garrett, the utter stone-wall asshole he is, actually looks a little smug about it.

Peter hastily looks away and crams another bite into his mouth. Maybe if his mouth is full, he'll stop saying stupid shit, and then he'll be able to gather his head enough to figure out how he should actually go about this whole thing. Yeah. Yeah, that could work. Peter swallows and prepares to take another bite, but before he can, there's a warm hand on his face, calloused fingers curled under his jaw, turning his head toward Garrett.

And Garrett has this heavy sort of expression, one bathed in heat as he shifts his grip, tracing a thumb just under Peter's lip. "Something on your mouth," Garrett parrots, voice a low rasp.

Peter's heart is all over the place, a jackhammer between the ribs, as his mouth drops open. "Huh? Oh, I-"

Peter has no idea what he was going to say, but it doesn't really matter. He has a feeling Garrett is making it up, has a feeling there wasn't anything on his mouth, and that saying there was was just an excuse, an opportunity, to absolutely ruin Peter for anyone else for the rest of his life.

Because Peter doesn't get to finish his sentence.

Peter doesn't even get to draw in a breath.

All Peter can do is frantically try to match the demanding pace of the kiss Garrett steals from him and try not to lose his ever-loving mind about it.

The kiss is better, more electrifying, than any of his harebrained fantasies.

* * *

**A/N: First off, thanks to everyone for your patience! I *should* be done with my work projects for a while, so updates will go on as normal every Saturday unless something else comes up. Fingers crossed!**

**It's nice to get back into the swing of things with Peter, but because it's Peter, there may be a few culture notes to be aware of. So, without further ado:**

**\- No-homo was the dumbest thing boys in 2010+ said to declare that their friendships with other boys were not, in fact, homosexual in nature. Saying "no-homo" would come in the context of hugging your bro, being in the same room as your bro when one (or both) are not fully clothed, or even being remotely emotional with your bro. It's a very frat-boy view of the world, so not all teenage boys have done it, but I've heard it being used by teenagers in my neighborhood so I am horrified to know it was passed down from Millenials to the Gen Z kids.**

**\- Fapping is slang for masturbating. Some dirty memes from the golden age reference fapping a lot - you might see it as "fap-fap-fap" as a sound action, or as a reference. It just means jerking off.**

**\- Mr. Meeseeks, aka the best character/episode from Rick & Morty and I will 100% fight anyone who says otherwise. Basically, Mr. Meeseeks is "born" into existence with the goal to accomplish one task, and if that task cannot be accomplished, Mr. Meeseeks goes crazy (and also homicidal lol). Despite the apparent controversy around Rick & Morty right now (Google it, it's weird and brow-raising), it's still very relevant to current pop culture. Like, the show might have been made for incels, but it's also so clever and combines every sub-genre of sci-fi into one show - and riffs off the cliches. Even the theme song heavily references Dr. Who. There's no way these characters, especially Peter, don't watch Rick & Morty. Also, Masen is definitely a Rick, and Peter is totally a Morty. I said what I said.**

Onto other things! Number one, absolutely do not use any vaccine pushed out by the FDA for, at the very least, another 6 to 8 months, which is when the safety validity tests should be coming to a close. There's a whole history about why presidents rushing vaccines is a stupid idea and why that should never be trusted no matter who is in office (see: Gerald Ford and that Epic Fuck Up). If you get any vaccine, make sure it's the flu shot ASAP; if you are immunocompromised or you have an elderly relative, make sure that relative is getting a pneumonia shot this year (this is usually reserved for people over 50). Call your local pharmacy to check.

Number two, the situation with the ICE facilities and the whistleblower outing them for mass hysterectomies of immigrant detainees without these detainees understanding what they are having gynecological surgeries for is a huge, massive, earth-shattering deal and it should be getting more attention than it is. This is not a political issue - it's a human rights issue. As in, these actions are a direct violation of Geneva Convention laws against eugenics and genocide (and make no mistake about it, ordering mass medically-unnecessary hysterectomies falls under the category of both these crimes). This shit needs to be investigated, pronto. Not only am I livid as a woman understanding that, once again, the right of women to make medical decisions about their own bodies has been arbitrarily taken away, but I'm livid as a human being witnessing actual crimes against humanity. People coming to start a better life shouldn't be detained and they definitely shouldn't be sent to a doctor called the "uterus collector". It makes me physically sick to think about it. But of course, it isn't surprising, either - the guy in charge of ICE actually tried to stop a rape victim, a 17-year old immigrant, from getting an abortion (because she didn't want to give birth to her rapist's baby), and FOIA documents also show this same guy literally tracking the menstrual cycles of detained women. And that's not even touching the alleged sexual abuse (women and children) that's happening in these facilities. Once again, America has concentration camps in our country and diddly-squat is being done about it from the international community. The United Nations has an obligation to investigate all of this and I just do not understand what's stopping them, because like I said, this isn't political - it's about human rights.

Lastly, given the day, it must be said: rest in peace, Ruth Bader Ginsberg. This woman had an astoundingly impressive career and was a feminist icon that gave hope to many. It's a sad day to know she's gone. I worry about what comes next.

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	60. study date fashion

**[Tumblr]**

_Anonymous asked:_

_ahhh i need help! so okay, my crush/hope-to-be-girlfriend wants to study for a big test we have coming up, but the thing is that A., i don't really study and B., my closet is full of sweatpants. help! i want to impress her and make her go OH WOW but i also don't want to be a total girl about it, aka, my ass does not belong in dresses. what do i do?_

**forthright_foresight**

Hi Anon! Can I be honest? You're not in such a big pickle - you're just overthinking it a little. Which totally happens! We get nervous around our crushes, so of course, we start nitpicking everything! You're in good company - I and my roommate do it, too. And I get the feeling that the "overthinking your wardrobe" urge never really goes away. Like, just think about brides and interview outfits! Gah!

So first, totally just take a deep breath and remind yourself that the woman makes the clothes, not the other way around. In other words, you don't need to worry so much about what you're wearing, but more how you're wearing it.

Sweatpants can definitely be sexy if you wear them right. Sweatpants, whether they're knit flannel or terry cloth or velour, are made to be soft and comfortable, and that can work for you to set a sort of soft mood! Being soft means being approachable! If you've got a bottom that won't quit, then I recommend wearing the sweats that contour your booty the best, i.e, show off your assets.

Now, one of the top rules of fashion is about balancing. If you wear something short on the bottom, you wear something long on top, and vice versa. That's how you sex it up with class! And you can do this with sweatpants!

Since cleavage is God's gift to women, I say take advantage of what you do have - subtly. Pair your sweatpants with a tank top or a V-neck t-shirt, put on your best bra to push the girls nice and high, and wait for your crush's attention to stray from studying ;)

Good luck, Anon! Just remember that since she asked you to study - you and not somebody else - that probably means she likes you already!

TAGS

#fashionadvice #classycleavage #sweatpantsmakeitwork #ihaveastudydatetoo

* * *

**A/N: Update 1 of 3 this weekend. Stay tuned! Also, legitimate fashion advice, I found something similar in Cosmopolitan while I was at the store the other day. Sweatpants are awesome, what can I say?**

**~Rae**


	61. the fuck-up's fix-it

**[the fuck up's fix-it]**

Jasper takes off his glasses, then puts them back on. Takes them off again. Back on. Fusses with the way his curls lay across his forehead. Better with or without the glasses?

Alice isn't a fan of the frames. She thinks other frames would look better on him, and she's probably right, but he doesn't have an appointment with his ophthalmologist for another few weeks and he can't stand contacts. And so, because he needs to see if he wants to study, he settles the glasses back on the bridge of his nose, only a little reluctant.

Alice doesn't care that much about his glasses. She wouldn't like him - miraculously, now, because she's a much better person than anyone on the planet - if that we true.

He's just nervous, is the thing. There is a study room in one of the campus libraries that he has reserved for them because they are having a study date - a study date, as in a real date. He's very lucky, he knows, and that's why he's nervous.

He's fucked up so much already, he doesn't want to mess up anymore. He wants to take it slow, of course, and he thinks he's doing well earning back her trust because she's at least granted him this. His stomach is knotted up with nerves, anyway, so much so that he doesn't even bat an eye at Riley and Bree's heavy make-out session on Jasper's bed. He reaches around them, tugs his messenger bag from under Bree's head, and double-checks that he has his wallet because he has the sense that he'll be sexiled for the rest of the night.

Maybe Alice will let him take her to dinner. That would be nice.

Jasper gets to the library first and takes painstaking time setting everything up. He feels it would be too pushy to sit directly beside her, so he makes sure the chairs are on opposite sides of the single table in the sound-proofed room. He takes out his books and his notes, then opens up the bottles of water and the sweet strawberry-flavored gummy rings he's noticed she likes to snack on, and then he waits for Alice to arrive, trying not to be too obvious about the way he stares out the square windows built into the walls.

It's a good thing he is watching for her because his heart lodges into his throat when he spots her tiny frame and her bright, round eyes through the window. She looks like a sunrise, to him.

(He's been so stupid. But no more. Who could be better than the sun?)

"Hey, sorry I'm late," she says breathlessly as she enters the room.

Jasper stands up and rushes to pull out her chair for her. "You're not late," he says reassuringly. "Here, have some water. Were you running?"

Alice giggles then takes a sip gratefully. "I ran a little bit. I got caught up listening to one of the a cappella groups - they were doing Unchained Melody - and then when I realized the time, I just booked it here."

A detail rises from the back of Jasper's mind, the kind of thing he probably read and remembered without realizing it. "There's a concert in a few weeks. We could go, if you want," he offers, and then hastens to add, "Because a cappella is nice to listen to! If you're into it, I mean."

"That would be nice," Alice tells him. She puts down the water and notices the strawberry snack. "Oh! Are these for me?"

Jasper nods, shyly, and goes back to his own seat now that she's sitting down.

Alice smiles at him so sweetly it almost hurts. She takes one of the strawberry gummies, then asks, "What are you studying?"

"Hamilton," he answers.

Her brows knit. "The musical?"

"The person." He pauses, feeling his face heat marginally. "But also the musical, for reference on some finer details. Early American history has a lot of details that can be overlooked..."

"So you do appreciate the arts," Alice teases. She flips through one of her texts, which looks like some kind of cross-sectional graphic design he can't get his head around. "Then I won't have to be embarrassed about what I'm studying. I'm afraid my major isn't as brainy as yours."

"You don't have to be embarrassed. Ever," he says hastily, firmly.

Alice's smile sweetens. "Will you quiz me, later?"

Jasper agrees. Of course he does. And then he does quiz her about two hours later, using the little notecards Alice has written out and color-coded in her bubbly handwriting, marveling over the scrunch of her concentrated expression. Somehow, though, one of her answers unravels into the homesick reminiscing of two Southern kids and they end up spending the next hour or so kindly arguing about which of their home states has the best food. Alice insists that Texas BBQ has nothing on Mississippi's blue crab or soul food, but they both agree that pecan pie is objectively the best kind of pie around.

Jasper is pleased. Alice seems happy around him, and his hope only grows.

It's only as they're packing up, the end of their reserved time coming to an end, that Jasper remembers he wanted to bring something up with her. Psyching himself up to toe at the conversation, he holds the door open for her so she can leave first, and insists on walking her back to her dorm because the season change is already making the sunset a little bit earlier and he wants to make sure she can get back safely. She's smiling enough that he feels like it's probably okay to talk about the subject on his mind.

Jasper clears his throat. "Do you maybe want to..."

"What is it?"

"Would it be okay if we - if you wanted to, that is - do you want to play with me, sometime? I've missed it."

Alice stops in her tracks and looks up at him, seeming to study him very intently. The campus lights flicker on and cast her lovely face in yellow light that makes the color of her eyes take on a warm, amber-like glow. She's so pretty. So nice and perfect.

A slow smile breaks out across her face. "Sure, Jasper. That would be fun. I'll text you when I'm online next."

"Thank you," he says fervently, and he absolutely means it.

"I'm glad you asked," she says as she starts walking. "I've missed playing the game, too. I didn't think I would, since it hasn't ever really been my thing. But when you room with a gamer long enough, you can kind of see the appeal. It's nice stress relief, right?"

Jasper agrees wholeheartedly and is content to listen to Alice ramble sweetly about whatever comes to her mind. That works well enough until they get to Robel Hall and Jasper is finally confronted with the source of his shame - namely, Bella Swan stepping right out of the dorm at the exact moment he and Alice arrive.

They all three freeze, and then two more girls - one light-haired, the other with dyed purple hair - come behind Bella, take stock of the situation, and shift into a defensive sort of stance Jasper recognizes from the ranch, when one of the mares is pissed at a stallion and about ready to knock him silly.

Jasper isn't a stallion in any sense of the word, but he has a sudden sympathy for the way they knicker and flick their tails in aggravation when the mares take on an attitude.

The two other girls trace a path between Jasper's red-face surprise, Alice's pinched expression, and Bella's uncomfortable shifting. And then the blonde one lifts an imperious brow and says, "So this is him? Hmph."

The purple-haired one sucks her teeth, unimpressed, and glares at him with fierce, dark, deep-set eyes that make him shiver in unease.

It all feels more than a little threatening, which is why Jasper, driven by the need to make things right and also the vague sense that if he doesn't tread right he might not be treading at all, speaks without thinking. "I want to apologize! To all of you!"

Dead silence. He shouldn't have said anything.

The three girls at the mouth of Robel Hall exchange a series of shrugs and skeptical glances. Bella's gaze then shifts to Alice, and Jasper watches as the two have some kind of silent communication, lips pursed and eyes widened and brows lifted for several long moments. They must reach some kind of conclusion because Alice turns to him with a bittersweet, worried sort of smile he never wants to see on her face again.

"I forgot my wallet upstairs," she says, which Jasper knows to be a blatant lie, as he'd seen the Hello Kitty wallet not fifteen minutes before. "I'll talk to you later, Jasper. Thanks for helping me study. Text me, okay?"

Jasper nods earnestly. "I will."

Alice goes up the steps, pauses by her roommates for another short-but-loud silent conversation, and then disappears inside the residence hall. This leaves Jasper alone and very much regretting the words that led him to this moment but -

But Jasper won't be a coward about this, not when he wants to live up to the decency Alice expects of him. And this is one thing he can do to maybe mitigate some of the damage he caused.

He can handle an apology.

Or he thought he could. Mostly, Jasper stumbles through all the reasons and ways he's been wrong, and his hope that he can treat Alice like the precious person she is. His apology ends with a final repudiation about his own stupidity. "I was dumb and a total asshole, I know. To Alice, but also to you, Bella. I...I guess I thought, since your life was so accessible online, that I knew you, and that it meant I deserved a chance. But I don't, in either case. And I definitely don't deserve Alice's forgiveness, but I want to do everything I can to be a man she can be proud of. So, I sincerely apologize to you all, and I hope you'll give me a chance to prove I can be better. I want to be better."

The blonde one clicks her tongue and looks away; the purple-haired one levels him with an unimpressed glare he'll take to his grave, it's that withering to the soul.

Bella, on the other hand, has tilted her head at him, studying him like he's something strange and foreign, an artifact that's been discovered. "It wasn't cool, what you did," she says, arms folded over her chest. "You really need to understand that persistence isn't a good thing in the Me Too Era."

Jasper winces. Yes, he'd been the exact scum of privileged white boys everywhere, hadn't he?

"But Alice forgives you, and she's giving you a chance," Bella continues. "If Alice can forgive you, so can I. At least you've learned your lesson, right? You're not going to do it again, are you?"

"No!" Jasper says immediately, shaking his head. "I'll never do something like that again. It's - well, shameful is a word for it - And to hurt Alice again, in any way, is just unthinkable -"

"Oh, so he does think," the purple-haired one snipes.

He deserves that and takes it with grace. "I'll be better," he says again.

The blonde one inhales deeply. "I don't like you," she says bluntly. "I probably won't ever like you. But as long as you stay good to Alice, I won't say anything."

"That's fine," Jasper says. It sounds more than fair. He might be kind of a fuck-up on the regular, but he can recognize the fact that, by hurting Alice, he'd also hurt her friends. This is only a small portion of the groveling he owes them all, but he hopes its a good start.

The purple-haired one snorts. "It's like stealing a kid's Halloween candy. I'm actually feeling a little mean."

"I'm not," the blonde one retorts.

Bella sighs, and Jasper is struck by the notion that, while Bella is still more than a little pretty, she also can't hold a flame to Alice's warmth and bubbly personality, or Alice's big eyes, or Alice's anything else. He'd been so blind before. Blind and stupid.

"Don't let Alice down," Bella tells him.

"I won't," he vows.

He'll never let Alice down again.

* * *

**A/N: Update 2 of 3 this weekend. If Jasper's redemption hasn't happened now, it never will. I've done my best to reform him and I think he's grown as a character. Still a little immature, maybe, but people are like that sometimes. So, Jasper Whitlock: Reformed Incel. Done.**

**I am completely gutted by some of the news we got this week re: Breonna Taylor. It wasn't surprising, but it's still upsetting.**

**As always, be brutally honest, I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, and stay healthy. Buckle in for a bumpy ride ahead. **

**~Rae**


	62. chapter 26

**[chapter_26]**

Bella is never, ever going to forget the way Masen gasped for air when the anaphylactic shock set in, the way red crept into his face, into the whites of his eyes, as he struggled. She lays awake thinking about it in the nights to follow, fists clenched in her duvet, cold sweat creeping along her neck. It's difficult to think of Masen like that - vulnerable when he's so larger than life all the time. It's hard to think of him as anything other than utterly invincible, but she'd seen the proof herself, and it haunts her a little bit.

The fact that he confidently, even carelessly, eats so much take-out frightens her. He ate at the dining halls as a student, he and the rest of the boys practically live off of Garrett's food truck, and he seemingly does it all without a second thought to the fact that a trace of shellfish could be lurking in his food. It's unfathomable to Bella, who now stares are her plates, trying to search for any trace, any sign, that there is cross-contamination.

She doesn't find any, of course, and that must be why Masen is still so free with his food consumption. As long as he's prepared, then he'll be okay.

Except he wasn't prepared at that lunch with his parents, and it's all Bella can do to try to come to terms with the fact that his continued brilliance really does hinge on the fact that a meal doesn't kill him.

It's unthinkable.

She doesn't think she's capable of accepting a world without him in it.

* * *

Madly Ever After

Go to sleep

The Missus

How did you know I wasn't?

Madly Ever After

Your last retweet

And you just confirmed it

The Missus

Stop being so slick

Why aren't you asleep?

Madly Ever After

Projects

I could ask the same question

The Missus

Thinking about you

Worrying

Madly Ever After

I'm fine

The Missus

Did you know you can buy

Epi-Pens OTC in Canada?

But you can't here?

It's unfair!

Madly Ever After

It's capitalism

The Missus

Masen

Be serious

Madly Ever After

I am

You don't need to worry

I'm fine

The Missus

I'm going to worry

There's nothing you can do about it

Because

You know

Madly Ever After

I see

Worry less, then

The Missus

I'll try

Madly Ever After

Go to sleep

The Missus

So demanding!

Madly Ever After

Yes

The Missus

:o

Goodnight

I love you

Madly Ever After

I love you too

* * *

By the time Friday rolls around, Bella has mostly made peace with Masen's near-death experience. Mostly. And by that, she means that she isn't struck with anxiety over it in the middle of the night, so she certainly must be...not getting over it, but acclimating to the fact that its part of her reality. A part of her reality she never wants to be unprepared for, but a part of it nonetheless.

This tentative acceptance turns out to be a good thing because she's completely forgotten about the fact that this Friday is the official release of Menagerie, and by the time she sweeps into the Midnight Sun office that Friday morning, she finds she doesn't have time to think - or worry - about anything else.

It's pure chaos inside, more so than usual, and she's glad that Rose and Alice aren't here to see it. Or Leah, who would surely have a conniption at the vast amount of disorganization. It's hard enough for Bella to stand at the threshold and try to wrap her mind around the scraping of desks and chairs into tighter clusters so there's more room on the floor. Alistair is wandering around with white cardboard boxes, the ones with the lids, and instructing everyone to clear off their desks. When he spots her, he makes a lazy beeline and hands her a box of her own.

"Clear off your shrine," he instructs her, distracted as he keeps an eye on the evident clean-up process. "Then move your desk over to Graphics for now."

Bella takes the box with both hands, a little thoughtless. "What's going on?"

Alistair casts her an offensively surprised side-eye. "Menagerie's official launch party," he answers slowly, as if talking to a toddler. Bella suddenly understands why Emmett always gets so worked up when he's around Alistair. "Investors will be by tonight. Reporters are coming. We've ordered catering. Masen went out to buy champagne."

Bella blinks. It's already October and she isn't sure when that happened. She's been so caught up in everything - classes, the internship, her projects, Masen and the girls - that she hadn't even noticed time passing, but here it is. She admittedly hadn't had much to do with the creation of Menagerie, not in comparison to what the others have done, but she does hear a thrill of excitement that the launch is happening.

Her lips spread into a smile now that she understands the point of all the movement and noise. "The beta testing went well, then?"

Alistair nods and walks away, leading Bella to her swan-themed desk. "We're launching on time, aren't we?" he asks rhetorically, before frowning at something Liam and Charles are noisily going across the room. He sighs and looks fit to get on their case about it, but he doesn't get two steps from her little desk before he turns around and casts a speculative eye over Bella. "You aren't wearing that, are you?" he asks, and Bella feels every ounce of his English pedigree judging her casual jeans and mottled basil green hoodie.

How unique. Usually, it's only Alice or Rose asking that question.

Bella shoots him a look. "Of course not. I know how I should dress for a cocktail party, kind of."

"Good," he says, and then, when he sees Bella has put her box down and stepped away from her desk, he frowns deeply. "Where are you going?"

Bella parts her lips, brow furrowed. "To...go get clothes to change into later."

"You can't do that," Alistair tells her. "You're needed here. I have a whole list of things I need you to help me finish, and that's before Masen comes back from running the other errands with Peter."

"Well, what do you expect me to do?" she demands with an incredulous laugh. "It's not like I can borrow your clothes!"

"Figure it out!" Alistair says as he walks away. "And then come help me after you've packed up your desk. Boxes go in the stairwell!"

Bella huffs at his back but does as she's told. She swiftly packs up the shrine, secretly very pleased that she has an excuse to get rid of the embarrassment and hoping she won't have to restore it when the party is over. After she takes the box and stacks it up with the others under the first-floor stairs, she pulls out her phone and sends an SOS to Alice.

Alice's response is predictably eager. Don't worry about it. I'll have your clothes sent right over.

Reassured, Bella finishes the task of pushing her desk into the corner under the Graphics Department neon sign and then returns to Alistair's side. He and Emmett have evidently been tasked with the office clean-up to make room for mingling and catering staff, and they have a certain aesthetic they want to reach. With the desks cleared off of personal effects and input devices, such as keyboards and mouses, tucked away into boxes in the stairwell, the desk clusters themselves look neat and clean. The problem now is what to do with the rolling chairs. Evidently, Masen plans to use the conference room to present the pre-recorded demo to the investors, as well as to conduct the official count-down launch of when it will be available for download at app stores, and Emmett will be in charge of monitoring the immediate sales counter to communicate to the investors. But that means the conference room can't be used to store the chairs, and with the stairwell already full of boxes, it leaves them short of storage space.

"We should just leave them," Emmett is saying when Bella arrives. "What if people want to sit?"

Alistair scoffs. "You don't sit at a cocktail party. It simply isn't done. And certainly not in rolling chairs."

"Okay, Fancy Pants, then what do you think we should do?"

"Line them up in the back of the building," Alistair answers.

But Emmett shakes his head. "In full view of the parking lot, Al? So the investors can see? I don't think so. And what if it rains?"

Alistair presses his lips together. "Why don't we have any bloody storage in this building?"

Bella chooses this moment to pipe in. "Can't we just put them upstairs? Half could go in the common room on your floor and half could fit on the third floor, probably."

Both of the men make a face because this is clearly an option they had thought of and discarded, but in lieu of another workable option that won't clash with their vision or Alistair's sense of pomp and circumstance, there really isn't any other choice. So the next several minutes sees a troop of chairs going up the stairs, the feet loudly dinging on the stairwell, and Alistair muttering about scuffs on the walls. Bella pats his back in comfort, then asks what else she can do.

It turns out, there's a lot. The refrigerator needs to be emptied, the counters need to be cleared, and the entire office floor needs to be cleaned. Apparently, Midnight Sun is also expecting a delivery of tall cocktail tables, which will be set up in strategic places, as well as a rented bar - and barkeep - that will need to be set up before the caterers arrive and take over the kitchen with their heated chafing dishes, which will be placed on the long counter facing the office. And as Alistair said, these are only the things that need to be done before Masen and Peter come back around noon with what Alistair calls the "ambiance" and company-wide dry-cleaning.

Bella volunteers herself for kitchen duty and quickly excuses herself before Alistair can come up with more tasks that need to be completed. She throws out leftover food, moves the perishables that are still good up to Masen's refrigerator in the loft, and uses three more boxes to pack up all the countertop appliances in the kitchen, which are then moved into the stairwell, too. Bella gives the kitchen a thorough scrub and sweep, then goes around the office with a garbage bag and collects whatever trash should be taken out. A fine sheen of sweat as worked itself onto her brow by the time she comes back in from tossing the trash into the dumpster and she's sure her hair is a mess, especially since she hadn't thought to do anything more than wind it into a bun this morning and she's on day three of her last wash.

She really needs Alice to pull through on those clothes. And she also needs to borrow Masen's shower. Hopefully, Alice will over-prepare as usual or use some of her fashion foresight to throw in the haircare and beauty products Bella would need to clean up well enough for a semi-fancy work function. She's actually about to text Alice about just that when Masen and Peter return, each of them weighed down with stacks of pressed suits, shirts, and ties from a local dry-cleaning place.

And right there in Masen's hand is a familiar white mesh zippered tote from Bella's cubby in the dorm bathroom, as well as a coral garment bag she recognizes from Alice's closet.

She closes her eyes briefly, a tiny wash of heat ghosting along her cheeks. When she asked Alice for this favor and Alice said she would handle it, she didn't think Alice would make Masen the messenger boy. How does Alice even have Masen's number? How -

Ah. Of course. Peter. Or rather, Alice told Leah and Leah reaches out to Peter, and since Peter was with Masen...

Well. Too late for regrets, now. At least Bella should conceivably have what she needs for tonight.

Masen seems to think so, too, because he greets her with a kiss on the cheek and an offer to use his bathroom to get ready, later.

Bella nods, folding the garment bag and the toiletry bag carefully in her arms. Something heavy is at the bottom of the bag, thumping against her shins, and Bella just knows Alice probably loaned her some awful - if not pretty - high-heels for the occasion. "I'll do that in a bit. How else can I help?"

Masen casts his eyes around, taking in the progress with a satisfied air as Peter works through getting all the dry-cleaning to the right employee. Masen looks back at her. "How are you on a ladder?"

"What?"

It turns out the "ambiance" is the installation of these long, thick white curtains dotted with hundreds of tiny fairy lights, which are summarily hung along the back walls and the foyers to hide the back and stair doors, between the side entries of the kitchen and around the back of the long counter to hide the kitchen from view, and around the desk clusters. Draped artfully around the desks and spread thin enough so that the computers are only just visible, the neon department signs help cast the desks in an ethereal, almost out-of-touch manner. It all looks very classy, especially by the time the cocktail a dozen tables are set up with clever trifold brochures of the Menagerie characters in the center.

Being light and tall, Bella and Peter are tasked with hanging these curtains while Emmett and Masen balance the ladders, a task which takes the next two hours to complete to everyone's satisfaction. By the time they're done, there's only five hours before the party is set to begin and plenty more that needs to be done. Masen, still as calm as ever, excuses himself to fine-tune the presentation and set up the projector in the conference room before Charles and Liam come back from the corner store with cold sandwiches and chips for lunch.

The entire company eats standing up, all of them a little mussed and tired and excited.

But the break only lasts for a while, because soon enough the caterers are arriving and the barkeeper needs help setting up in the space between the foyer and the kitchen, and then Emmett spends the next hour messing with the lighting in the office until it's just dim enough that the fairy light curtains soften the room and give everything a subtle glow.

Alistair, who has been in charge of the task list the entire time, double-checks everything with Peter's chin digging into his shoulder and then dismisses everyone to go home and get ready, but to be back by six because that's when the reporters are going to start arriving. One by one, the employees of Midnight Sun gather their dry-cleaning and depart, and the only ones left in the building are the caterers, the people who actually live in the apartments upstairs, Bella, and the barkeeper, who is currently smoking outside.

"I need a shower!" Peter declares.

"No jerking off," Emmett warns. "We all want hot water."

Peter feigns offense. "Why, I would never," he declares with a gasp before he departs, slipping under the curtain in front of the stair door.

Alistair rubs his wrist. "I liked it better when he was full of gay angst."

Emmett snorts. "That's because you're a sore loser."

As Alistair and Emmett bicker, Masen runs a smooth hand down the length of Bella's spine, dipping down so his lips reach her ear. "You go shower first. Take your time. I'll be up in a bit."

There's nothing explicit - or even implicit - about what he says, but Bella feels the heat rising in her cheeks anyway. She nods, face red, and beats a path upstairs with the things Alice had sent over.

Masen's bathroom is just as neat, clean, and minimal as she remembers it, with the single exception of a second toothbrush sitting beside his own. It's a soft shade a pink, much different from his grey, and clearly meant for her. She stares at it for an embarrassingly long time, absorbing the implications of it, before she manages to get into the shower.

From there, it's all routine, even if the scent of the soap is deliciously sandalwood-cinnamon, just like Masen. She doesn't waste too much time in the shower, knowing that she needs her hair to dry as quickly as possible. She has it wrapped in a towel before she gets out and ends up exchanging it after she wiggles into the floaty, deep mauve cap-sleeved tea-length dress Alice sent for her. Bella recognizes it from something Alice had made last winter when they were snowed in for three days and while it's not a perfect fit, it's good enough for such short notice. The shoes, on the other hand, Bella holds a grudge against. She's pretty sure the shoes are Rose's, a nude pump with a subtle shimmer on the pointed toes. She puts the heels on, wobbles, and steps right out of them, deciding she'll just put them on before the party starts and not a moment sooner.

As for the rest, she digs through the cosmetics bag, frowning at the products someone - probably Rose, who loves her make-up - thought to throw in. There's some kind of cream blush Bella doesn't have the first idea of how to use, as well as some kind of facial spray that promises "dewy" skin. She looks at it all skeptically, takes out the muted rose-pink matte stain and mascara she does know how to use, and decides to give a subtle champagne-colored eyeshadow a shot. Everything else is unnecessary.

By the time she's carefully applying the lip stain, Masen comes through the loft to lean against the bathroom doorjamb, watching her with a placid sort of calm. She meets his eyes in the mirror and his lips twitch. Fortunately - surely sensing that make-up application isn't one of her strong suits - he remains silent until she caps the product and tosses it back into the toiletry bag. Only then does he step into the bathroom properly, closing the distance between them to gently thumb at the side of her bottom lip.

"Smudge," he says by way of explanation. He says it so casually too, as if that little touch wasn't enough to send searing heat right into her cheeks.

Bella pouts at him, just barely maintaining her cool by a single internal thread. "They sent over so many things and I don't know how to use them."

"You don't need them," he tells her simply, pressing a kiss between her brows. "But I do need the bathroom. Unless you'd like to stay?"

She slaps at his chest lightly and hastily retreats to the sound of his huffing laughter, her face still hot as she settles onto the couch as the shower in the bathroom squeaks on. Feeling the dampness still lingering, she settles for a loose braid side braid, which she coils up behind her ear on one side of her head, pinning it in place with the bobby pins that came with the rest of the cosmetics. The result feels both loose and secure, and she decides it has to be good enough because the day has been long and she no longer has the bandwidth to care much more about how she looks.

Bella scrolls through her social media accounts, distantly hearing Masen's soft clinks in the bathroom as he cycles through all of his after-shower products, and then the slide of the bathroom door and the rustle of clothing in the bedroom. When he comes back to the front of the loft, he's wearing a sharply-cut deep navy suit with a lightly checked grey-and-sky-blue shirt underneath, which he leaves unbuttoned at the top collar. Bella knows that he's just standing there adjusting his cufflinks, but her breath catches anyway. He is, she acknowledges again, a stunning human being - and all the more because of the deft intelligence in his eyes.

Masen offers her a tilted smile, his eyes flickering down to her bare feet. He spots the nude pumps by the coffee table and moves to kneel before her to help her into the heels. Bella has very strong flashbacks of Cinderella, except she bets that Cinderella never felt a flash of heat when Prince Charming's fingers lingered on the delicate bone of her ankle. She and Masen are both silent as he helps her, the quiet between them thick with a new kind of tension.

And then he holds out his hand as he stands in front of the couch. "Let's go."

Bella takes his hand, his bracelet dangling from her wrist - and tries very hard not to feel like they are about to step into their future.

It's just an office party, press release sort of thing. It's not that deep.

But her heart feels otherwise, feels full and fit to burst.

Downstairs, the scent of food is wafting gently through the air, a herbal, spicy sort of scent that has her mouth-watering. She doesn't know what the caterers are able to make in a kitchen that has no stove or oven, but she supposes they must have their own equipment in the parking lot, maybe something like Garrett's food truck. Whatever it is, she wants a taste of it as soon as possible. But of course, the food isn't ready and all Bella can do is throw a longing glance at the covered chafing dish as Masen guides her further into the office where most of the employees have already arrived and loiter in suit-and-tie groups. They all clean up very nicely.

"It's weird to see this room full of people and not a single person is wearing anything with a pop culture reference," she whispers into Masen's shoulder.

Masen tilts his head down just slightly. "You say that only because you haven't seen Peter's bowtie."

Bella follows his gaze, and sure enough, Peter is wearing a suspiciously familiar-looking red bowtie and a deep brown suit, almost black. It takes her a moment to place why the combination looks familiar, and then it's all she can do to stifle a laugh. "Is he dressed like the Eleventh Doctor?"

Masen hums.

Alistair turns up from her other side, apparently having overheard her as he trailed behind them from upstairs. "I tried to talk him out of it," Alistair grouses, and for once the haughty planes of his face match the high-classed English of his accent. Alistair crosses his arms over his chest and sniffs derisively. "I told him this wasn't Comic-Con and the wanker had the gall to laugh at me."

"It's very subtle," Bella tells him, trying to be reassuring. "I'm sure the press and the investors won't notice."

Alistair doesn't appear convinced. But of course, he's from England - and from what Bella hears, everyone knows about Doctor Who there. She's not as well-versed in it as she could be. The whole show is more of Leah's domain.

She's about to say as much to Alistair when a sudden shout echoes through the room and draws everyone's attention. There is a blue or movement as Peter dashes forward excitedly, and she only just manages to turn around to see him practically jump into Garrett's arms before, much to her shock, Peter and Garrett lock lips very passionately in the middle of the room. There is definitely a hand straying much lower than it should in a crowd, not that Peter seems to mind. All Peter does is cling onto Garrett, wrinkling the shoulders of Garrett's stark black-on-black suit, not that Garrett seems to mind that, either.

Even with the bustling of the catering staff, a pin could drop in the office and everyone would be able to hear it.

After much too long - a truly shameless amount of time for any form of PDA - Peter and Garrett separate, and Peter grins up at Garrett like a flower to the sun. Garrett isn't much like the sun, however. Maybe more like a night-blooming flower to the moon, then. Either way, there's no denying that Peter looks deliriously happy, and while Garrett's face is as cold as ever, there's something soft about the way he looks at Peter.

It actually kind of reminds Bella of the way Masen looks at her when there's nobody around.

All the same, Bella and Masen would probably never be like that in public. Not even a little bit. She can't even imagine it.

She's evidently not the only one, because Emmett's booming voice pipes in from near the conference room. "Don't do that shit when the investors are here, Pete!"

Peter turns around, arms spread wide, and though his stance is challenging, his attitude is nothing short of jovial. "I'm here and I'm queer. Got a problem with it?"

"We don't care you're as gay as a basket full of rainbows," Charles says. "Congrats, man! And scary man!"

Liam curls his lip and skulks around the other side of the room, likely as far from Peter as he can get. "We do care if we have to see it, though."

"Don't be homophobic," Charles chides.

"Fuck you," Liam retorts. "It has nothing to do with homophobia, I just don't need to see anybody's tongue entering anybody's mouth."

Charles looks very sad for Liam. "This is why you're still single."

Peter, naturally, is quick to agree with Charles, and for some reason Emmett is inspired to get involved in the squabble, defending Liam's side, and half of the rest of the room joins in about what kind of PDA should be allowed in the office. Garrett is the only one who doesn't seem to care, his gaze steadily riveted on Peter.

Well, Masen actually appears to have the same intensity, although it's directed in a decidedly more productive direction.

"Are the press here?" Masen asks Alistair, blithely ignoring the rest of the room.

Bella fairly gapes at him, alarmed by his one-track mind, but also more than a little impressed over it. What had Alice said over the spring? That Masen treated people like air? It's never been more true than it is now.

She probably shouldn't find it attractive, and yet.

Alistair answers in the affirmative and Masen gives out quick directions for Alistair to let the press in, which Alistair hurries to do, and then Masen shoots a witheringly cool glance at the rest of Midnight Sun, who calm and fall quiet under his stare.

She probably shouldn't find that attractive, either.

From there, the night is a blur. The press interviews go on for an hour before the investors show up and the entire time is spent with Masen and Emmett ping-ponging answers off each other, promoting the company, and answering questions without giving too much information away. Bella watches and listens with awe as Masen manages to cultivate interest and excitement with carefully-worded phrases that evoke more curiosity. The press eats it all up. She can only imagine what the papers and blogs will say tomorrow.

Masen's silver-tongued charade continues when the investors arrive, and Bella is arrested at the sight of him effortlessly charming men who are double, sometimes triple his age, with an easy, affable smile. At some point, Alistair comes to her side with a plate in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. He hands her the plate and keeps the glass, and then says, "It's strange, isn't it?"

She makes an inquiring noise around some kind of sausage-stuffed mushroom.

Alistair nods to Masen. "Watching him be like this, schmoozing. He can turn it off and on so easily."

At this, Bella can't help but agree. "Like a chameleon," she says with open admiration.

Alistair sighs. "I'm surrounded by lovesick idiots."

She giggles at him. "You sound like my sister."

"Then she must be smart."

"She's the one who gave you all those peanuts," Bella reminds him.

Alistair makes a face. "Well, nevermind then." He takes a look at the expensive watch on his wrist, then says, "Hurry and finish your food. The presentation and the launch is about to happen."

Bella follows his directions because Alistair has never led her astray before. In the conference room, he deposits her near the projection screen then goes to join Masen, Emmett, and Peter at the front of the room. The presentation itself is clearly designed for the investors, the sort of explanation laypeople would be able to understand, but the demo Peter cues up is breathtaking. Bella watches it unfold and feels pride. She helped design some of this; she helped make choices that contributed to this game, and the fruits of their collective labor are brilliant.

Apparently, consumers seem to feel the same way, because, within five minutes of the official launch, there is a veritable blow-out of success in how many people have downloaded the game from mobile app stores. The much-anticipated second release from Midnight Sun seems destined for success and the investors look more than pleased.

After that, there's a lot of mingling and self-congratulations, the press swarming around to take quotes. Occasionally, Peter or Emmett will read out the first batch of reviews that are pouring in from Twitter. Masen shakes a lot of hands and seems to be genuinely enjoying this success along with the rest of the company, and all Bella can do is smile.

She's part of this too.

Yet, as the night stretches on, and the warm bubbling of champagne is washed away by water, Bella begins to feel tired. Fortunately, the even seems to be winding down, so she steels herself and continues making polite small talk with one of the press - a local video game blogger - who recognized her as Swanning. It's not hard to do, but she's glad all the same when the office building once again empties out until it's just the Midnight Sun employees.

"You've all worked hard," Masen tells the room at large. "We have more work to do, but for now, enjoy a long weekend. Don't come back until Tuesday."

The men all cheer at Masen's generosity, many of them appearing truly gobsmacked, but not hasty to second-guess the decision. Soon enough, even the Midnight Sunners clear out, many of them taking the leftovers from the catering staff with them.

Bella yawns, leaning against one of the cocktail tables, and kicks off her shoes, hissing at the stretch of the tendons in her feet. Masen is almost immediately at her elbow, bending to pick up her shoes. "You're tired," he observes, passing the pumps to her, eyes studying her carefully. "Go on up."

"M'kay."

It's an easy enough directive, but getting up two flights of stairs feels more challenging than it probably should. She must really be out of shape if one day of physical activity has exhausted her so thoroughly. Or maybe she's just tired from happiness and satisfaction. Menagerie has successfully launched, and now they can all focus on the DOW2 demo.

Bella drops her shoes by the door and stumbles through the loft, searching for her clothes in the bathroom and frowning when she doesn't find them. She thinks to check the bedroom and, yes, there they are, folded neatly on the foot of Masen's bed. But because Bella wants nothing more than to change out of this dress, of course, the zipper chooses that very moment to get stuck.

She huffs and wiggles, stretching her arms backward and tugging, silently cursing the design of the dress that makes it impossible to pull over her head or step out of. The next time Alice sends her a dress, Bella will make sure to specify that the dress is easy to get out of. Growing frustrated, Bella continues to pull ineffectually at the zipper, and she's so consumed by the task that she doesn't realize Masen has come back until his hands brush hers away.

"Let me," he says, almost inaudibly. There is a firm tug and then the catch of the zipper as it's pulled down to just below her shoulder blades.

Masen exhales softly, his breath washing over her skin and making her shiver. She swallows and dares to look over her shoulder. Masen meets her eye and strokes a single finger down the knobs of her spine, from the nape of her neck to the line of her bra. Holding her gaze, Masen dips down to kiss the curve of her shoulder and then presses another closer to her neck. She arches into his touch.

"I want you," he says, the zipper of the dress lowering all the way to the base of her spine.

The only thing holding up her dress is her arms pressing the bodice to her front. She seriously debates just dropping her arms for a moment, then licks her lips, fighting a shiver under his attentions. "Masen..."

She can feel the upward turn of his lips on her neck and she feels dizzy for an entirely new reason. "Not all at once," he amends. "I'd like to savor you. There's something to be said about delayed gratification."

"Will you touch me?" she asks and it feels like her skin is on fire. She can't believe she actually said that. She can't believe she wants it, but she does and she can't deny it. Her body is quivering for more than just a glancing, ghostly touch. She wants something that lingers, something that makes her shiver, something that she will only ever share with this person - her person.

"Do you want me to?" he murmurs against her skin, and there's no denying that it's a slow sort of seduction, one meant to lure her into the promise of something she hasn't even imagined. His breath washes over her nape while he waits for her answer, his fingers just barely tracing the dip of her spine between the parted zipper of her dress.

"Please," she breathes.

Masen is seemingly very happy - eager - to oblige. He was waiting for permission, she knows. She can tell by the way his hands turn hot and heavy on her skin, skimming her dress off her hips, learning the shape of her waist, and the weight of her breasts through padded fabric. His chest is pressed against her back as he lavishes kisses on the other side of her neck, skillfully teasing and stroking her into a state of heaving, lust-heavy breaths and a squirming, heated sort of ache between her legs. When she makes a noise of frustration after he purposefully traces over her most sensitive place, a touch lighter than a feather, it spurs him into action - and soon enough, Bella finds herself on his bed, legs spread to accommodate the wedge of his hips, his mouth prying hers open and muddling every thought in her head.

She grips at his shoulders, his arms, nails digging into the fabric until it occurs to her that she can be feeling his skin, too. She struggles with the buttons of his shirt, pushing it off with a huff, and then muffling a sound of pleasure when his hips buck into hers. Her back arches, hips rising and falling with the rhythm he sets, and she pulls him down into a fiercer kiss, breathing him in. Masen manages to undo the clasp of her bra, and then it's his mouth on her, suckling and nipping as she clutches him closer, holding him in place.

"Ah-" Bella breaks off as his hand dips beneath her underwear, drawing out the slick of her, fingers sinking in deep at a luxuriously slow pace, curling inside in time with each brush of his thumb over her swollen clit. Her head drops back against the pillows and she loses all sense of rational thought for a while, mewling under Masen's attention. His hardness registers against her thigh, though, and she manages to push him away by the shoulders, her nipples glistening and red, his grey-green eyes dazed. Bella licks her lips and his eyes follow the movement. "You too," she manages, breathless, reaching for the button of his slacks.

Naked together, they lay side-by-side, her leg hooked over his hip as he continues working his hand between her thighs, his mouth dedicated to the crest of her collarbones. Her shaking hands trace along the subtle, soft muscles of his body, finding the strength there, feeling the pounding of his heart, then the trail of hair leading down to his -

She breathes in deep as Masen grinds the heel of his palm against her fluttering center - and then returns the favor by bolding grasping at his length. He's wet too, at the time. She didn't know that happened to men. He's also achingly hard, the skin soft and hot, and when she clumsily strokes from root to tip, he groans into her skin, his hips driving upward against her. She clenches inside, trembling as heat skitters down her spine coiling, waiting for just one more bead of pressure to push her over the edge. She squeezes at him unconsciously and the suddenness of it must come as a surprise, because the fingers inside her jam upward with more force than before, and she tumbles into a rush of pleasure, her head thrown back with a loud, high-pitched gasp.

She's still quivering from her climax when she finds herself again on her back, with Masen again between her legs. There's a dark, liquid heat in his eyes, his tongue flicking at the fingers that had been inside of her.

It doesn't escape either of their notice that all it would take is a single push for them to -

But Masen doesn't do that. He captures her lips - they are salty now - and hooks an arm around her back. With his hips holding her legs open and his strength enforcing her position, it takes nothing at all for him to grind his length against her slick center, the wet glide almost embarrassingly loud amid their gasps. Or it might have been, had Bella not been overtaken by that rush of too-pleasurable overstimulation that has her twitching in his grasp, meeting his every thrust and grind. Sometimes, the head of his cock will brush against her clit, and she will cry out under his mouth, raking her nails across his shoulder blades. He seems to delight in this, pulling away to draw his still-wet hand down to her center again, rubbing insistent circles against her until she is coming again - this time with warmth spreading over her belly, the sound of Masen's groans in her ear.

Breathing hard, they lay side by side, Masen's cum cooling just below her belly button, her thighs slick, the smell of sex in the air.

Because they'd just had sex. Maybe not proper penetrative sex, but there's no doubt about it - this was sex. Better and more intense than what happened before, especially now that Masen had gotten his, as well. And Bella had gotten hers twice.

She looks down the length of her body, taking in the sex flush rising on her milky skin, the red marks from Masen's mouth and his slow-growing stubble - and the small, cloudy puddle pooled on her stomach, rapidly cooling in the air. Somehow, her body still finds a way to blush about it all.

"Should get cleaned up," Masen says after several moments, reaching up to stroke her hair away from her face, running a thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. "You were beautiful."

Bella smiles, bashful. It's one thing to be called beautiful during the day and quite another to be called beautiful at a time like this. But she doesn't doubt that Masen fully believes what he says. She doesn't quite have the words to say how much she appreciates him or how beautiful she finds him at this moment, too, all his walls down and fully mussed, looking far more human than he ever has. So she leans up to kiss him, the touch of their lips almost comically chaste compared to their previous exchanges.

"You too," she says as she pulls away, her heart thumping loudly.

God, but she loves him.

"Share a shower?" she offers. "Conserve water to save the planet?"

Masen's answering smile is surprisingly boyish. His lingering touches in the shower, however, are not.

Bella ends up staying the night, tucked against Masen's chest as they fall asleep.

* * *

**[BuzzFeedNews- Arts & Entertainment]**

Menagerie Is the Mobile Game We've Waited Our Whole Lives For: An Objective Review of the Latest Midnight Sun Release  
October 3, 2020  
Tia Benjamen

When Midnight Sun first released Pagan Immortals over the summer, the enthusiasm was off the charts. With a cult following cultivated over several small-time releases of helpful software designed by Midnight Sun founder and CEO, Masen Cullen, Pagan Immortals was already set up for success before it even hit the app stores. The game blew up and brought the gaming community to a screeching halt - but many critics were divided on whether this rookie start-up could possibly stand up to their own reputation, so it was with bated breaths that the world was waiting for Midnight Sun's second release.

Menagerie is the pseudo-follow-up to Pagan Immortals, a sequel mind-bender first-person RPG that threads mystery through the entire gameplay. Eagle-eyed gamers will spot the Easter eggs for Midnight Sun's first release - in particular, the statues of Pan and Circe's demise from the final level of Pagan Immortal's main quest - as they level through this fast-paced game, which has left many gamers wondering if Midnight Sun is about to create an entire universe of interconnected mobile games.

I won't be mad if they do, because Menagerie is everything Pagan Immortals was and more! Without giving away any spoilers, Menagerie has obviously taken inspiration from the likes of Castlevania with a gothic horror twist and dark humor that will have players saying, "What just happened to me? Am I the monster?" at 3 AM when they really should be sleeping (I regret nothing).

In an exclusive BuzzFeed interview last night with Midnight Sun's CEO, Masen Cullen said, "Castlevania was huge when we were growing up. Our head graphic designer, Alistair Anderson, spent his entire childhood playing the game, and our head programmer, Peter Charlet, has the entire collection of every Castlevania release. We wanted to honor the game, but also put our own spin on it."

The spin, if you were wondering, is a huge spoiler, so I can't say anything about it. However, I can confirm that Menagerie's gorgeous gameplay isn't the only thing drawing excitement from gamers. According to Cullen, Menagerie's software contains a first-generation optimization engine to lower the stress put on graphics chips during gameplay. In other words, Midnight Sun has come up with a way to save your display, stop your phone from feeling like it's on fire, and prolong your battery life.

If you think that's impressive, then you're not the only one. I got a chance to speak with some of Midnight Sun's veteran investors after the official launch - which had a quarter of a million downloads in the first 5 minutes, including my own - and they were all collectively amazed. They expect to see "more great things" from Midnight Sun in the future.

Methinks there's something else coming down the pipe and I can't help but speculate if it has anything to do with those Volturi rumors we're all not talking about. If Midnight Sun collaborated with Volturi in the rumored sequel to Dawn of Warcraft, I think my head might possibly explode. Considering that Menagerie manages all the sophistication of a PC game and with twice the artistry, I can't imagine what they would be capable of creating with a full-scale game produced by Volturi.

For now, gamers will have to content themselves to unraveling the mystery of Menagerie until Midnight Sun releases more information about its next project.

**Comments**

13TexRex  
bro you aren't kidding i thought my phone was going to explode because the graphics are *that* beautiful, but it was so smooth!

TooTrue  
I'm not afraid to admit that I stayed up all night playing the main quest and Holy Shit

leonerd  
Yes! Holy Shit! I didn't see the ending coming! And there's more - I just started the first branch quest and I could cry from happiness

Salsasasa  
can Volturi please partner with Midnight Sun for DOW2? idk how they're deciding who to collaborate with, but it needs to be Midnight Sun

pumosumo  
I have a cousin who has a friend who says Volturi is looking at Midnight Sun and some other company in CA for collab rights. Personally I hope it's Midnight Sun.

**View More Comments**

* * *

Bella gets back to the dorm early on Saturday morning, early enough that the dining halls are still serving breakfast. It's the first Saturday of the month, which means the nearest dining hall is serving Belgian waffles, and with or without sleeping in Masen's bed, nothing is going to get between Bella and those waffles. Except, maybe, her nosy roommates who, much to her surprise, seem to have camped out in the common room, sprawled across the beanbags with pillows and comforters spread across the floor.

Either Bella missed their plans for a sleepover, or the girls had a spontaneous one. She's betting on the latter, especially given the devious glint in Rose's eyes as she sits up gracefully, flicking blonde hair over her shoulder with a saucy smirk.

Bella has a bad feeling about this.

"So," Rose drawls out, running a speculative eye over Bella's wrinkled clothes and the slightly-tangled wave of her hair where last night's braid had fallen out. Rose lets the word rest in the room for a while, waiting for Alice and Leah to sit up, watching as Bella clutches her book bag and the garment bag to her chest. Satisfied that she has everyone's attention, Rose finishes her question. "How was it?"

Yes, Bella does have a very bad feeling.

She isn't blind to the implication, but she also wants Rose to say it out loud. She plays a little dumb. "How was what?"

"The sex," Rose says bluntly.

Leah grimaces.

"Rose!" Alice squeaks.

Rose snorts. "What? She's got the glow. It's rude to not point it out when it's so obvious."

'What glow?" Alice asks.

"Please don't say it," Leah mutters.

"The freshly-popped-cherry glow," Rose says knowledgeably, gesturing broadly to Bella's entire person.

Bella would wonder how Rose just seems to know these things, but then again - Bella did sleepover at her boyfriend's house last night, so it isn't exactly a leaping conclusion to draw. Still, she does wonder if maybe she does have this alleged glow, or if she and Masen haven't gone far enough. Or maybe Rose is just trying to stoke up the drama for her own entertainment. Bella honestly doesn't know, but it's probably a little bit of both.

Leah groans, pulling a pillow over her face. "Ugh. You still said it. My ears are bleeding."

Bella also pulls a face. "That is not a thing," she says firmly. "And no, I don't, because THAT didn't happen."

And then, because the best way to prove everything is normal is to be normal, she weaves through the common room to deposit her burden on her desk and claims her own bean bag, reaching over to steal Leah's pillow to hug it to her chest. Rose watches this all, utterly unconvinced because she really is very smart.

"Oh, really? What what did you do all night at Masen's place? Play Jenga?"

Bella laughs. "Why would anyone play Jenga? It's the literal worst."

"Jenga is pretty boring," Alice agrees.

"Better Jenga than private parts touching," Leah grouses, and then sticks her tongue out when they all stare at her.

Rose rolls her eyes, shrugging. "I don't know," she says with a wondering tone. "Maybe you did play Jenga. Sexy Jenga."

Bella's brows lift. "What is Sexy Jenga?"

"It's like regular Jenga, except every time you move a block, you have to do something sexy," Rose explains.

Bella titters. "Well, as fun as that sounds, nothing really happened. I was there for the launch party, remember? We just slept."

Rose's blue gaze sharpens. "In the same bed, though?"

Bella bites her lip.

Rose claps her hands together. "I knew it! Good for you, Swan!"

"Congratulations, Bella!" Alice says cheerfully. "If you're happy about it, that is!"

Leah stretches on the floor, looking plaintively at the ceiling. "Why do I have to be here for this conversation, again?"

"Because you love your sister," Alice reminds her.

In response, Leah holds out a fist for Bella to bump.

Bella smacks her hand away, cheeks on fire. "You're all being ridiculous! It's not a big deal!"

It's kind of a big deal. Bella isn't sure what base she and Masen got to last night, but it's more sexual than anything she's ever done in her life, which she supposes is cause for some sort of congratulations. She would just prefer those congratulations to be silent, if possible.

And yet, she's clearly friends with too many extroverts for that to happen.

Rose's gaze dips to Bella's neck and her look grows disbelieving. "Not a big deal? Then explain this," she says, reaching out to poke at Bella's neck where, sure enough, a hickey has bloomed beneath her hair.

Bella smacks her hand away too, pulling her hair back over her shoulder to cover the mark better. Her face is on fire. "It's no big deal," she says again.

"I can see that you're lying. You're a terrible liar. You know that, right?"

Bella pouts. "I am not."

Leah barks out a laugh, bending her head backward to get a better look at Bella's face. "Rose is right, you do have a certain glow. I've never seen you so red."

"Because I'm embarrassed and you all suck!" Bella cries out, now throwing her stolen pillow in her sister's face.

"Just admit you had sex!" Rose says around a laugh.

"Admit it! Admit it!" Alice cheers.

"I didn't have sex!" Bella bursts out. "Just a really good orgasm!"

"Gross!" Leah shouts. "I didn't want to know that!"

"Are you kidding?" Bella demands, wishing she had another pillow to throw. She reaches for one and throws it at Leah, too. "You guys are the one asking!"

"I didn't think you'd answer!" Leah defends, tossing a pillow back and missing spectacularly.

"Wait, back up!" Rose cuts in. "Orgasm, but no sex?"

Alice appears a little thoughtful, coming to Bella's defense. "Well, there are ways, right? Like, how strict are we defining sex?"

"Penetrative and oral count," Rose says definitively.

"Oh. Well, then, Bella?"

Bella buries her face in her hands. "Wouldn't anything resulting in an orgasm count as a sexual activity? Do we have to go into the details? Can't we just be done with it?"

Rose shoots her an imperious look. "This is what girlfriends are for, to gab about our sex lives and how to take down the patriarchy. Today just happens to be a day where sex is the topic."

Alice, meanwhile, is tapping her finger against her chin. "Are you considered sexually active if you're giving yourself orgasms, or do you need a partner?"

"That's a good question," Bella admits. If she goes to her GYN-OB tomorrow and she's asked about her sexual activity, will she have to say she's sexually active or not? She thinks she would say she is, considering last night, but maybe it's all semantics at this point. She isn't sure. "If you're sexually active once, does that mean you're considered sexually active all the time? Or does it change if you don't have a partner?"

Leah shakes her head. "Another debate I just can't care about."

Rose is contemplative - and sharp enough to call Bella out. "I know what you're doing," she says. "And while the debate is super relevant, I know you're only entertaining it to distract from the real issue, which is your Schrodinger's virginity."

Bella sputters, caught, and hastily scrambles out of the bean bag chair. "Anyway! I should go now, take a shower so we can get to the dining hall. Did you know it's Belgian waffle day?"

Rose cackles behind Bella as she escapes to the bathroom. "Make sure to use a Ph-friendly soap while you wash off your man's-"

"Ugh!"

The last thing Bella hears before she finds refuge is Leah saying, "My asexual ass did not need to know any of this."

Bella is helpless to agree - but even for all the teasing, she's glad that this is what she gets to come home to. Friends who are without judgment, who want to know her and welcome her and support her. Even if it's a little uncomfortable in the moment.

* * *

**A/N: Update 3 of 3! Friends are like that. If they can't give you a hard time, then what do you have them for? But on a more serious note, there is a serious question here: What are your thoughts about being "sexually active"? Do you need to have a partner, or does it count if you're solo? The true answer, according to Google, is sexual activity is determined by the risk of exposure to an STI - which means you do need to technically have a partner and share bodily fluids. And yes, being sexually active can turn off and on based on how long it's been since you had a partner. Just FYI, for those with male partners, semen can live inside the body for up to 5 days and your doctor can definitely find traces. (This is also why it's so much fucking bullshit that rape victims only have 24 to 48 hours to "collect evidence" with a rape kit and are discouraged from showering until afterward - the evidence, scientifically, is there if no protection was used. Upsetting, but true.)**

**Other notes on the chapter: Bella has obviously changed Masen's contact to "Madly Ever After", both because she knows the boys call him Mad Hatter and because she's Happily Ever After in love with him. It's both sappy and a fun play-on-words. These kids are so precious. **

On to other things - let's talk about voting, specifically your voting plan. If you have not done so already, send in your request for your absentee or mail-in ballot today, right now, by searching up your county's election board (Google _Name Of Your County Vote_). Complete your request now so your ballot can get to you on time. Also, double-check that you're registered to vote, particularly if you live in a "red" state because things are getting hinky there. To be safe, check your registration status once a week, preferably by Monday so you have more business days to get things sorted out.

Now, on to your voting plan. Obviously, the idea is to use your mail-in ballot to vote by mail, but since that is still up in the air, the best thing for you to do is find your local ballot drop box and drop your vote there as soon as possible (you can find this drop box also at your county's election board). Of course, if you would prefer to vote in person, then look up your state's early voting dates and make sure you can attend. Early voting is less crowded, so it's safer for COVID. . And be sure to follow the directions on your mail-in ballot! You will have your ballot, which you will fill out and then place into the Secrecy Envelope, and then the Secrecy Envelope is placed into the Mailing Envelope, which you need to seal, sign, and date - DO NOT send in your ballot unless it is in BOTH envelopes, signed, and dated. Absolutely essential that this happens.

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, stay healthy - and stay on your toes. Don't let go of your outrage, it's the only thing saving you from complacency. **

**~Rae**


	63. the one time swan (and panda) talked

**[YouTube Video]**

That One Time Swan (And Panda) Talked About Queer Inclusivity  
**ClarityIsClear**  
573k Views / Posted 2 years from now

(The first image of the video is a bird's eye view of a Pride parade - rainbow flags, painted faces, and defiantly flamboyant people proudly marching down the street. That image morphs into another short video of a different pride parade, and then another, and then another. The video clips speed up until, suddenly, they stop on an image of a rainbow banner being held up reading "Out And Proud".

The image fades to black, replaced by Leah Clearwater's mischievous expression. Behind her, a now-familiar building can be seen; eagle-eyed veteran viewers recognize the Midnight Sun doorway and signage.

"It's Pride Month," she begins unceremoniously, tapping her finger against a new gold ring in the center of her bottom lip. Her lips quirk up to the side. "Did you know that, like, one in four people are part of the community? Like, if you know four people, then one of them is probably queer? We're a lot more common than certain people want to believe. I mean, including myself, there are at least six queer people in my immediate friend group, and I honestly only consider, like, ten people my friends. So, either that earlier statistic is wildly inaccurate, or I know too much about my friends. You choose.

"Anyway," she continues lightly, gesturing behind her. "We're here because life is about seizing the moment. Okay, well, the real story is that Bella has cloistered herself in the office for the last three days and I'm afraid what will happen to her if she doesn't see sunlight, so I'm here for a jailbreak. And also because, since Pride is around the corner, I figured I could use an opportunity to get an assignment of my own done."

Here, Leah Clearwater pauses, making a scrunched-face expression nearly the same as her sister. "Everyone else has graduated. Instead, my stupid ass had to go and sign up for that MFA. At least Rose is in the same boat," she sighs. Leah rolls her eyes at herself. "But like I was saying, I thought I would kill two birds with one stone, and be topical at the same time. You don't need to tell me what a genius I am. Trust me, I already know. Now, let's go see what our Swan is up to inside and get this assignment out of the way..."

Leah swings the camera around, mutters something about "editing this so the professor gets the polished version", and walks into the building. Without any hesitation, or any word to the sputtering receptionist who jerks to a stand at her entrance, Leah waltzes right into the busy office floor. The camera pans around, taking in the view of the bustling office environment, many stress-looking people hunched over desks.

Leah's voice can barely be heard over the din. "There's a lot more women here than before, isn't there? Bella wasn't kidding. But where is Bella...?"

Then the camera passes over a pale man with platinum blond hair, who scowls fiercely over some red-headed guy on a computer, and Leah's voice shifts to cheerful as the camera rapidly moves closer.

"Al!"

Al - or Alistair, as other viewers know him - looks up and his scowl deepens. "You get that bloody thing out of my face, Clearwater."

"You shouldn't talk so sweet to me, Al," Leah chides.

The red-head snorts and Alistair sighs, long-suffering. "Why are you here?"

"Why are you holding my sister hostage?"

"She's not a hostage. She's a valuable employee."

"I see," Leah says agreeably. "Then where are you holding this valuable employee hostage? I'm here to take her out for fresh air and some watering."

Alistair snorts, then waves her away. "Conference room," he says dismissively.

"Many thanks, Al. I'll send you some cashews!"

"If they're spicy..."

Leah merely laughs, and the camera turns in the opposite direction, striding clearly through the dead center of the office to a discreet door. There is a silver plaque beside the door reading Conference Room and inside there are two figures sitting side-by-side, each on their laptops, but clearly working on the same type of project. Leah opens the door silently and is just in time to watch Bella lean over and point at something on the other person's computer. The other person, it turns out, is Peter, who viewers recognize as the man who had gone as a Sexy Panda to a Halloween party the year before. Needless to say, many viewers call him Panda. He's a fan favorite.

"Bell-Bell," Leah sing-songs sinisterly, laughing in delight when Bella jumps and turns around to shoot a narrow-eyed look at the person behind the camera.

Bella, frankly, looks something of a fright. It's very easy to believe that she's been holed up in an office for three days, given the Cheeto stains on her hoodie, the mess of her hair, and the dark circles beneath her green eyes. Peter doesn't look any better, even though he smiles brightly and waves at the camera.

"Why are you here?" Bella asks.

Leah - and the camera - circle around the conference table. "For a few reasons," Leah says, sitting down at the table. The camera is adjusted to a better level. "Lunch, for one. But also, I need to talk to you."

Bella's brows lift. "Oh?"

Peter echoes the expression.

"Yeah," Leah says behind the camera. "I need an interview for my assignment."

Bella immediately looks exasperated. "Why me? I'm busy enough."

"You're my favorite subject, of course. Plus, you promised," Leah reminds her. "All those years ago, you naively agreed to be my film subject, and you have to keep your word by the bond of sisterhood."

Bella sighs, slumping back in her chair. She waves a hand. "Fine."

Leah clicks her tongue, and the camera zooms in a few inches. "Could you be a little more photogenic?"

"Leah," Bella prompts. "The question?"

"Let's talk about queerness!"

Peter's eyes widen as he turns to look at Bella.

Bella, meanwhile, has pursed her lips together. "What about it?"

"Yeah! What about it?" Peter apes cheekily.

"Are you talking about, like, prejudice within the community?" Bella wonders.

"Sure," Leah says behind the camera. "Let's start there."

Bella gives the camera a perfectly deadpan stare. "You know, Lee Lee," she starts flatly. "I'm not sure how I feel about your interview format. Aren't you supposed to ask specific questions?"

"I am," Leah insists. "I just asked you a question!"

"Dude, you really didn't."

"Oh, shut up, Peter," Leah says shortly. "Just answer the question, Bella."

Bella leans back in her rolling chair, dusting crumbs off her shirt. She looks very tired but maintains a game face. "Obviously, I'm not the authority on it or anything, but I guess we can start with biphobia. You know, like when bi people are told they aren't gay or straight enough?"

"As a bi man, I agree that it's pretty much fucking bullshit," Peter says sagely, nodding his head. "Go on."

"Plus there's this really weird idea that bi people are cheaters or liars," Bella adds with a frown. She looks at Peter inquisitively. "It's really weird, right?"

"As if I would ever cheat on Garrett!" Peter exclaims.

"Case in point," Bella says. "It all seems a little unfair, you know. People shouldn't have to live in fear of - of judgment, or whatever."

"Agree," Leah says, unseen.

Peter snaps his fingers rapidly. "Also! Hey, also, people should definitely be allowed to use the bathroom they want to without other people accusing them of being perverts!"

"Say it louder for the people in the back," Leah cheers, and Peter laughs.

Bella smiles too, propping her chin on her fist, elbow resting against the arm of the chair. "Yeah, but the bathroom bill isn't the only phobia trans people face, is it? They get it in the community, too. We've all seen it, right?"

"Give an example," Leah tells her.

Bella purses her lips. "Well, like, I'm sure you've heard about it, but there are people who say trans women aren't really lesbians or trans men aren't really gay, which completely discredits the idea that gender is not determined by biological sex."

"Which it totally isn't," Peter says to the camera.

"Of course, it isn't," Bella agrees. "Gender is something you feel, what you identify as, what feels the truest to who you are."

"Sexual orientation follows gender orientation, basically," Leah says.

"Mm-hmm. I mean, if someone is telling me they're a woman and they're attracted to women and they're in a relationship with a woman, and that that makes them identify as gay, then who am I to say otherwise?" Bella asks with a shrug, clearly stifling a yawn. "I don't get to decide for people what's true for them."

"Stupid TERFs," Peter mutters.

Bella nods at him. "That's the things about TERFs, right? They think they're defending biological gender, but what they're really doing is setting the entire women's lib movement back by at least 50 years."

Behind the camera, Leah snorts, then clears her throat. "You sound just like Rose. Can you elaborate?"

Bella lifts her brows, then heaves out a gusty sigh. "Saying a woman is only defined by the presence of a womb or her ability to bear a child is, you know, patently anti-woman and anti-feminist," she points out. "There are cis women who can't give birth, or who have hysterectomies for whatever reason, and even women who don't want to have children, so by defining women by the status of their wombs, TERFs are undercutting women who maybe don't fall into whatever they consider normal."

"Which is seriously messed up," Peter asserts.

Bella gives Peter a fond side-eye. "Thanks, Pete."

Peter, who always seems to have a smile, looks uncharacteristically serious compared to how viewers are used to seeing him. "Plus, it bothers me that the same isn't said about trans men, which is really weird."

"It is weird," Leah agrees.

"It's a strange dichotomy," Bella tells them, leaning more heavily into her chair. "On the one hand, being perceived as feminine is considered a weakness or somehow degrading -"

"Dudebros calling each other pussy," Peter says, providing an example.

"- but on the other hand, being a woman is considered some kind of exclusive club where you have to meet certain requirements? Society just can't make up its mind."

Leah hums. "I feel like this dovetailed into gender issues," she says, fiddling with the camera to readjust the angle. "But it's all related, so I'll let it slide. It's my own fault for interviewing you after a three-day bender."

Bella makes a face at her. "Don't make it sound like I have a problem. I don't have a problem, I have a job."

Peter snorts. "And right now our job has a problem."

Bella rolls her eyes. "It's fine. We'll fix it."

Peter looks a little doubtful.

"Let's stay on topic," Leah chides.

"She says as if she has any idea how to conduct an interview," Bella titters.

Leah huffs behind the camera. "Look. I haven't taken any journalism courses. How was I supposed to know I would need the skillset?"

Bella's eyes widen. "You want to make documentaries! Of course, you need the skillset!"

"Oh, whatever," Leah says dismissively. "I still have one more question."

"Let's have it," Peter says.

"It's for you, Peter, mostly because you're here."

"Oh my." Peter smiles widely. "I feel special."

Bella bites her lip to hide her own smile.

"Well," Leah begins. "For as long as I've known you, you've pretty much always identified as queer. Um, not gay or bi, but queer. So, why is that?"

"Queer is a more general term," he says. "Anyone in the community is considered queer, because queer is queer, you know? Plus it's easier. Being less specific is better, like safer, for some people."

"Being out and proud is one thing, but if someone doesn't want to reveal their orientation to strangers, then they shouldn't have to," Bella agrees, nudging Peter's knee with her own. "Using queer takes care of that."

"And you say that as a queer person?" Leah prompts.

Bella nods, freely and openly. "I mean, I'm definitely on the asexuality scale, but it's all so fluid. Saying I'm queer is easier than explaining demisexuality."

"Same," Leah says. "But using queer is a touchy subject in the community."

"That's, like, a recent thing," Peter insists. "Queer has a good history. The community has reclaimed it - we've reclaimed it since 1969."

"We're here. We're queer. Get used to it," Bella quotes.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Queer is an inclusive term," Bella says. "It applies to all of us in the community. It's a neutral term and it describes the very basis of who we are. I know some people don't like it or have negative associations with it, but it's the most inclusive term there is. The community, I mean, some people like to really make divisions -"

"Because people suck no matter where you go," Peter interjects.

"-and by using queer, you're getting rid of that division. It's no more gay and lesbian and bi and transgender as if those are all different groups. It's just queer, and that includes everyone. But," here Bella pauses to yawn into her fist. "But it's still catching on. I think our generation is more open to it."

"Gender identity and sexual orientation are already difficult enough to explain, being so fluid, right? It's okay to simplify things, sometimes," Peter says. He reaches out to poke Bella's cheek and she flaps his hand away. "Man, you really are tired, huh?"

Bella gives him a droll stare.

From behind the camera, Leah scoffs. "Well, I guess that's it, then."

Bella squints at her. "Are you really going to be posting that?"

"How am I supposed to get better if the people of the internet won't tell me how bad I am?" Leah shoots back.

"A valid point," Peter observes, and Bella nods, her tiredness clearly catching up to her.

The camera jostles, the angle switching back around until Leah is in the frame, too, right at the forefront. "This is Leah Clearwater signing off. Um. For more information about using the word queer and other things we talked about, follow the links I'm going to edit it!"

The video switches to a series of slides directing viewers to particular URLs. After several moments, the video ends.)

**Comments on this video have been disabled.**

* * *

**A/N: Update 1 of 4. Alright! So, an important conversation I felt it was important to include, not only as a future take showing how things will be and what the characters will be doing in 2022, but also because the entire subject of LGBTQ rights, freedoms, and expressions is pretty central to Millenials and Gen Zs. It's something we talk about easily and most people know where they stand on the Kinsey scale if you know what I mean. Young people care about pride - in all its forms. And since there are a lot of queer characters in the story, it only made sense to include this chapter.**

**A few chapter notes!**

**Stanford does have a MFA (Masters of Fine Arts) in Documentary and Filmmaking, so Leah is going to school for two more years; so is Rose, but for her MBA. I say this now because, as a future take, this is probably not going to be covered anywhere else in the story. At the time of this video, Bella and Alice are recent graduates, and Bella is obviously full-time at Midnight Sun working on some projects with Peter.**

**Transphobia is very real, very frustrating, and very dangerous - not just physically dangerous, but also for the feminist movement. TERF stands for Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist, which is a person (feminists can also be men) who tries to qualify who is and isn't allowed to claim a female identity. TERFs like to argue that there are only "real" women, and those "real" women have wombs, so everyone else is a fake woman. There's some gross things TERFs like to say about transwomen really just being perverts out to attack "real" women, which is why TERFs get so up in arms about things like Bathroom Bills and name changes, and anything else that would allow transwomen to live their lives as the women they are. JK Rowling is probably the most infamous TERF in the world right now.**

**Queer does have a pejorative history as a derogatory word against the LGBTQ community. However, the Stonewall Riots in 1969 was when queer as a proud label started its reclamation journey, and a lot of (younger) people prefer to use queer for it's general neutrality and inclusivity. Some people are always going to have a problem using the word queer, and that's fine - but if someone wants to call themselves queer, then it's not anyone else's business to tell them why they can't use the word to describe themselves that they feel the most comfortable using. For what it's worth, there's a serious debate in the community about whether the Q in LGBTQ is meant to stand for "Questioning" or "Queer", but more people are opting for queer these days, so. You can learn more about the use of queer at:**

tolerance dot org

and

the safe zone project dot com

**I think that's everything. As always, be brutally honest, I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay vigilant. **

**~Rae**


	64. get to know my granular data

**[get to know my granular data]**

Emmett McCarty, Rose thinks, is truly something else. The sheer exposure to her presence has gone a long way to soothe the nerves that have him stumbling over himself to please her, but their project updating the financial health of Midnight Sun is far from over and he still treats her with a bizarre - but welcome - deference.

Rose has a difficult personality. She's always known this and it has led to more than one dissolution of her relationships when she was younger. Her family probably only tolerates her because they're just as bad. She considers it something of a miracle that her roommates are truly her friends - but then again, Bella grew up with Leah so she's a bit more prepared for Rose's personality, and Alice is frankly too sweet-tempered to be off-put by anything.

But because she's always had a difficult personality, she's made it a practice to test people. How far can she push them? How much can they tolerate? She wants to know what people are made of and her boundary-pushing usually does that. But sometimes people surprise her. Sometimes people don't react to the push at all.

Emmett McCarty, even for all this bashfulness, has had zero reaction to her deliberate baiting of him. She's been doing her best to rile him up each time she comes into the office, but nothing seems to work.

She needs it to work. She needs to know because she needs to be able to place him in a category before she gets attached - more attached than she already is. Rose wants things from Emmett, but she doesn't want to want them if he's not going to be someone who sticks around. And she can't know if he'll stick around if he doesn't take any of the bait she's been hand-feeding him.

It isn't that she wants to be objectified or talked down to or treated badly. Of course, she doesn't want that. But she wants to know the measure of this man and, so far, his measure seems limitless.

Numbers are the only thing in her life that are limitless. People can't be like that too, can they?

She doesn't trust it. And that's why she's set out to do her level best to push him over whatever edge he has so she can know this man the way she thinks she wants to.

Rose shows up at Midnight Sun on a Monday, not on a Friday. She assumes showing up on an unexpected day will throw him off-kilter enough that he might get irritated at her antics, but aside from a round of nervous babbling and agreeing to look at the data she has compiled, there is nothing. She's here on a Monday and Emmett is happy to work with her.

Rose makes a point to wear her most form-fitting, curve-hugging, lust-inducing clothes. She has on a high-waisted jean pencil skirt and leopard print booties she knows makes her legs look like they are a mile long; she has a luscious red sweater tucked into the skirt, the deep V neckline snug around her breasts and deep enough to show off every inch of cleavage she has. She makes a point of leaning into his space where they sit side by side at his desk, makes sure she's in his line of sight when she bends over to pick up a pen she "accidentally" dropped on the floor. She does her best bend-and-snap, damn it, and she doesn't feel his eyes on her not once. Others in the office? Sure. But Emmett? He just asks if she's cold.

She is cold. He gives her an ocean-musk scented grey hoodie. She thanks him. That's not the point.

She flirts with him, touching his arm, paying him sly compliments. He accepts them with a blush and pays them back earnestly, but not about anything that is remotely lustful.

Does she want lust from him? Yes, at least enough to know he finds her desirable. The respect is nice, but here she is, doing her best to be deliberately objectified by this man, and she may as well be a nun for all the interest he shows. She's so confused by it. He calls her beautiful, he defends her online, he's asked her on dates that she has rejected in the past - but now that she returns the interest, it doesn't seem to be returned.

Bella is probably right. When Rose was bitching about it over the weekend, Bella told her that Emmett is probably not sure how to respond because he never imagined his affections being returned. That's the exact phrase she used, too.

But is Bella right? Emmett isn't responding because he's convinced it must be his own fanciful illusion or something.

Even if Bella's right, Rose is determined that he has to respond to something. He has to react to something. Maybe he'll react in a way she doesn't like and she can stop putting forth all this utterly wasted effort.

And so, predicting this, Rose had put together her data analysis with exactly one error. She did it on purpose. She wants to know how he'll respond to correcting a mistake. Even if he doesn't respond to anything else, he has to respond to that, right? And maybe if he does respond to that, she can leverage to assess his level of interest at the same time.

It's her last gambit.

What kind of man is he? Is he going to be like Royce, her utter asshat of a cousin who has an annoying habit of explaining things to Rose like she only as one working brain cell? Or her uncles who think it's "cute" she wants to get her MBA? Is he going to be like any of her past flings, who each thought her blonde hair meant she was empty-headed? Or is he going to be like the other past-lovers who thought it was a challenge to get a smart girl, and then didn't like it when she was smarter than them, so they talked down to her to assert their authority?

Will Emmett be like any of those men? She just needs to know.

She's watching him intently, so she knows the moment he realizes the mistake she left. He pauses, furrows his brow, flips the page back, and then his lips move silently as he mouths numbers to himself. His frown deepens and she is reminded that he can figure very large sums in his head.

His reaction is cute.

His response, however, is flooring.

"Uh, Rose..."

"What is it?"

"This data set, here," he says, pointing at the page. "There's a minor error in the granular data and it throws off the entire aggregate. The micro-level projection is incorrect."

"Is it?" she asks dryly.

Emmett nods. "Unfortunately, it looks like you skipped a step on this set. It's an easy mistake to make, really. See, the dividend discount model requires..."

Emmett goes on, but Rose isn't really listening. She isn't sure what she was really expecting, but it wasn't this gentle correction that doesn't patronize or dumb it down for her. She sits there and listens to Emmett thoroughly explain the error she made and the correct way to perform the calculation, nice and patient.

When he finishes and looks at her almost hesitantly, Rose is shaken from her stunned stupor. She shakes her head, truly flabbergasted that she hasn't just been mansplained into an inch of her life, and can only say one thing:

"Take me to lunch."

"What?"

"Take me to lunch, as a date," she says, staring at him intently. This man is unique. He isn't like the others and she doesn't want him to be - but at the same time, he's the only man who has gotten close to shaking her self-confidence, even knowing that he thinks she's attractive. She wants him to want her, but unique men need unique approaches, and if all of her baitings has only proven that he's gentle-hearted, thoughtful, respectful, and intelligent, then she'll have to approach him a different way.

The direct route might give him a heart attack. It might be worth it.

Emmett's blue eyes are wide. He's in disbelief. His gaze flickers all over her and he turns red, unconsciously fisting her papers.

Finally sensing that her opportunity has come, Rose leans real close, tilting her head down demurely, playing at all of her best angles as her finger skims up the back of his hand. "Take me on a date, Emmett, and I'll let you know all about my granular data."

She says granular data like it's the dirty word she wants to use but can't in an office environment, and Emmett must finally get a clue, because he nearly swallows his tongue.

Rose grins, slow and satisfied.

She's got him.

* * *

**A/N: Update 2 of 4. Rose really did dress to seduce and Emmett adores her so much, so purely, that he barely even noticed. It's true love! I don't have many plot-specific notes for this chapter, other than a lot of Rose's characterization is tied up into this desire to test the boundaries of people because she knows she's a lot to handle and she'd rather they leave than waste her time. We also got to explore some of what makes Rose so Rose-like. She's an interesting character for me!**

**~Rae**


	65. get the dish

**[Instagram]**

(A single-picture post featuring a picturesque plate of food: the white ceramic plate holds a perfectly-cut bacon-and-avocado cheeseburger, with a dainty pile of sweet potato fries and a side of a mysterious orange-tinted dipping sauce in a small metal drum. The burger has one bite taken out.

The entire plate is cast into a slight shadow. Looking closely, because of the angle, it's easy to see that the plate itself is shadowed by a rounded shoulder. Above the plate, on the wood-grain table, the rest of the shadow continues and is obviously a shadow of two people sitting very closely together.

The shadows are caught mid-kiss. The shadow with the familiar feminine side profile has turned toward the second taller and wider shadow, the clear outline of a kiss being placed on a cheek.)

Posted 1 hour ago

**byanyothername** I'm told that California girls are unforgettable - and that we really do love our avocados.

#getthedish #comfortfood #seetheshadow #callforthecheck

**Comments**

Ty-Liar who are you KisSInG?!

aliceseesyou oh, I know that place! They make a mean Southern veggie, too.

savethebees Katy Perry should be honored you referenced her song! Also! WHO IS THAT?

VeraNotWang You never could just make an announcement like a normal person lol

thelittlecygnet Tell Emmett I said hi if he hasn't died of happiness yet!

**View More Comments**

* * *

**A/N: Update 3 of 4 and Rose & Emmett are now a *thing*. Emmett is definitely over the moon, and Rose is smug as hell to have locked down a decent dude who is more than DTF (down to fuck). High-fives all around.**

As to the recent news, I can only say that I'm not exactly shocked. I don't even really care. The only reason I'm following this bit of news is to see how things are going to shake out so we can recalibrate and plan as necessary. My attention is mostly focused on what the Senate is doing with the Supreme Court nomination. Who cares about Trump having COVID-19? It's about the Supreme Court for me. Keep an eye on the news.

That said, from a psychological health perspective, if your first instinct was to feel happiness or relief about this news, this does not make you a bad person. You can still be a compassionate human being and not have sympathy for your abuser - which this man has been, for many of us. You don't owe anyone empathy for any reason, particularly those who terrorize you and make you feel fear. To think that you need to be sympathetic to a situation of his own making is to fall into the trap of compassion for those who exhibit toxic behavior - who in fact bank on your human compassion to continue their behavioral malpractice. If it's better for your mental health to reserve your compassion and sympathy for those who can return it, then take this as my self-care advice for the day: you can feel what you feel and be perfectly valid in feeling it without any guilt, because you, like the rest of us, are trying to escape a toxic situation. You wouldn't ask a victim to pray for their abuser, would you? You don't owe him or any of them your sympathy if you genuinely don't want to give it. That doesn't make you a bad person - it just makes you human. Honor your survival instincts, because they can manifest emotionally as a way of self-protection. And nobody should ever feel bad about wanting to survive.

**~Rae**


	66. swanning is swansong is bella swan

**[swanning is swansong is bella swan]**

James has always gotten what he wanted. It's not even a question. As the heir to a Fortune 500 company, everything he's ever asked for has been his as soon as he expressed even the faintest desire for it. The world is his. The world goes his way. No matter what it is, he gets it if he wants it. This is what he's come to expect.

So, it's extremely irritating and disconcerting to know that he isn't getting what he wants.

That girl wasn't Swansong. She'd been pretending to be Swansong and she'd been dumb enough to out herself in the office. But James doesn't care about the girl. He'd made sure she paid for lying.

The only thing that really matters about Alice Brandon is the slim chance that she might actually know Swansong. She'd confessed that she borrowed her friend's handle - so, if her friend was truly Swansong, then that means Swansong had been at the company and James had missed the opportunity.

Why does he care? He doesn't. Not really. The fact that someone was pretending to be Swansong was irksome, the fact that he was weak enough to hire someone based on their handle is vexing, but none of it is quite so irritating as knowing Swansong had rebounded from him to Master Culler. And that the two of them had beaten him, had boxed him in, had outmaneuvered him.

Nobody beats James and gets away with it.

For weeks, he's been chipping away at two projects. The first is to shake Swansong's foundations. They might have been in-game spouses and he might have been interested in more, but with her unwilling to meet up, James had decided she wasn't worth the time - she must be too ugly, he'd thought, and that's why she was playing hard to get. That was fine. Victoria had been in the wings for him, anyway, and he hadn't thought much about upgrading to the better girl. But with the way Swansong and Master Culler are, James is chafing at their superiority. They've been on top for too long. His best plan of action is to push Swansong out of her safe place, out of the guild, and out of the game. Let that be a payment to her, too, for letting her friend lie and lie and lie. It's what she deserves.

The second project is this, the reason why he's staying late yet again, going over archived employment applications in search of any indication of who that Alice girl's friend might be. He isn't sure what he's looking for, really. He's had to go through hundreds of files because the idiots in HR had a filing error that meant nothing from this summer was archived into individual folders. Instead, he's been going through the files from the last five years alphabetically, combing through names, pictures, and handles to search for any kind of pattern.

He's set aside all of the files from this summer's interview process and combs through their details carefully. There are a few handles that pop out to him, but the information in them doesn't indicate any connection to the information in Alice Brandon's file.

He thought it would be easier than this. Alice Brandon is a Stanford student with her dorm listed as her address, and he thinks it's fair to assume that she might have applied for the internship with her friends, maybe even her dorm mates. But by the time he narrows his files down to five additional applications using a Stanford address, he isn't sure he's going to find what he wants. The first two files are complete duds - the applicants aren't even computer majors, which he knows for a fact the real Swansong is because she'd let it slip during one of their conversations. The third file is a computer major, but also male, which is another disqualification.

File number four, though -

James stares. He can't help it. This is a shitty two by three picture, but this girl, he recognizes her. It's the barest flicker of a memory, but he remembers that day in the spring, remembers seeing who he thought was Swansong, remembers her much more attractive friend by her side. Remembers this girl with the green eyes and the freckles.

Remembers this girl who is just as gorgeous, if not more, than Victoria. The more he looks, the more he's enchanted - and, conversely, angered.

Could this be her? Could this be the actual Swansong? And if it is, then why wouldn't she want to meet with him? She's not ugly - far from it, actually - so he can't think of anything to explain her hesitation. Unless she hadn't wanted to meet him because she didn't like him online, who Relentless is, in which case his pride takes a blow.

He scowls and takes a look at the handle this Bella Swan - Swan! - had provided to Denali in her interview. Swanning. Well, that's awful close to Swansong, isn't it? A computer major, a Stanford address, a DOW handle, and his memory - all signs are pointing in only one direction.

James has the time to look into this because Victoria isn't expecting him for another hour. He turns to his laptop and runs a perfunctory Google search. A Twitch account is pulled up - lo and behold, there Swanning is, there Bella Swan is, providing tutorial demos for various games, including DOW.

"Let's see if you play like Swansong," he says as he opens a random instance dungeon tutorial.

It takes less than three minutes to recognize Swansong's distinctive maneuvering. Even played with a different character class and different abilities, the movements, the strategy is all the same.

This girl is Swansong.

"Fuck me," he mutters, letting his eyes drag across the delicate planes of her face as she provides a running commentary for some noob-ass players who need help with these simple quests.

He doesn't know whether he should be pissed that someone who looked like this rejected him, or whether he should be motivated. And more importantly, he doesn't know if he wants to finish the first project.

Maybe it would be easier to get rid of Victoria and pursue this Bella girl, instead. Swansong is the better player, after all, and prettier the longer he looks at her.

With single-minded intensity, James dives headfirst into any public information he can find on Swanning and Bella Swan. Swanning has an impressive public Twitter account filled with all sorts of innocuous details about her life, including the fact that she has siblings, and irritatingly, a boyfriend.

Well. Boyfriends aren't husbands, are they?

If anything, there's more information about Bella Swan online. In fact, there's an entire YouTube channel dedicated to documenting her life, and he spends several minutes watching the most popular videos, trying to piece this girl together. Her personality is all Swansong, is everything he knows and was so fond of from their gaming chats.

This girl...

Swanning is Swansong is Bella Swan, and James wants them all.

The obstacle, it seems, is Masen Cullen. The boyfriend. He isn't directly tagged in anything by Bella herself, but it isn't hard to follow tags made by friends and reach the conclusion that this so-called maestro is the boyfriend blocking his way.

He doesn't even spare the fleeting idea that Masen Cullen could be his rival player online when he stumbles across the information - from another Google search - that his Masen guy is the CEO of a little tech start-up called Midnight Sun.

The name rings a bell and James raps his knuckles against the desk when he recalls Midnight Sun is competing against Denali for the DOW2 contract. James hasn't been directly involved in that project - that's why Denali hires people, so he doesn't have to deal with those things - but he knows enough to understand that, for some reason, his company is worried about getting the contract. Apparently, Midnight Sun is building a reputation for producing first-class games and the idea that Denali would rest on the laurels of its own reputation is falling short.

This is who Bella Swan is dating.

It's another blow to the ego. She could have had James, but instead, she chose this green, no-name chump. And he could have had her under his thumb, in his company, but instead, he got her homely friend.

Cool anger settles in his veins.

James has always gotten what he wanted. He doesn't intend for that to change.

He just has to figure out how - and going through with his first plan might isolate her enough to do the trick.

A buzzing on his desk distracts him from his plotting - it's his uncle, a text that invites him up to the CEO office. Apparently, Uncle Eleazar has something he wants to talk to James about.

Rolling his eyes, James takes his time as he leaves his office. He straightens his tie and checks his hair in the silvery reflection of the elevator doors, winks at his uncle's pretty receptionist, and then lets himself into the top-floor office, where Uncle Eleazar sits behind the desk with a mighty frown.

"Oh, good. You're here. Come here, boy, and let me talk to you about something," Uncle Eleazar says.

James withholds a sneer at being called a _boy_. He's getting closer to thirty every year, but here his uncle is, still treating him like someone toddling around his knee. James bites his tongue and plops down on one of the hard-backed chairs in front of his uncle's desk. "What is it?"

"It's about the Volturi contract," Uncle Eleazar says, eyeing James speculatively. "You play that insipid game, don't you? Dawn of the Warcraft, or whatever it's called?"

James raises his brows. "Yeah, I play DOW."

"You like this game?"

Is his uncle an idiot? Why would James ever play a game he doesn't like? What a ridiculous question. James doesn't even deign to answer, but that seems fine for his uncle, who obviously gleans the correct response just by looking at his expression.

"You know we're hoping to secure that Volturi contract," Uncle Eleazar checks, and James nods. Uncle Eleazar claps his hands, a plotting sort of glimmer in his eye. "How would you feel about being involved in the development?"

James makes a face. "I play games, I don't make them."

But then a thought occurs to him.

The other company competing against Denali is Midnight Sun - Bella Swan's boyfriend's company. That's one degree of separation from Bella Swan herself. This could be an opportunity, couldn't it? And even if that part of it doesn't pan out, James' pride is on the line. He can use this to prove that he's obviously the better choice between the two of them, and then Swansong - gorgeous, perfect Swansong - will be right where she belongs -

Back by his side.

James' smile is the unholy sort. "But I could learn," he tells his uncle.

Uncle Eleazar returns the expression. "Good. Then I'll put you in charge of this project. Do whatever you need to do to secure this project."

"It will be my pleasure."

* * *

**A/N: Update 4 of 4. An important reminder that Midnight Sun is not in any way affiliated with the Cullen family businesses because Masen says "Fuck GC, that's why". As far as James is concerned, the fact that Masen has the same last name as one of the bigger companies in California is nothing more than a coincidence. How sad to be so very wrong lol**

**But we get to see how an online life can spell trouble, especially when it's so public and when information is in the hands of not-so-well-adjusted minds (again). This is something celebrities, no matter how minor, have to think about. If your life is that public, how do you deal with the creeps? Like, Bella is generally anonymous as a person, but for those who follow her as Swanning and on Leah's YouTube page, she's pretty accessible. Earlier parts of the story have also glossed over the fact that not all people are as thorough as James - he went and connected all the dots because he's relentless, and Masen and Alistair figured it out with enough clues, but most other people don't realize the relationship between Swanning and Leah's video subject because there isn't a lot of cross-over in the audience. Two different platforms and very different people watching the videos. In my experience, most people (for some reason) don't put a whole lot of effort into fully researching anything, let alone people online, so for me, it feels realistic that the majority of people just don't see the connections without it being put in front of their faces.**

**Anyway! James is absolutely the kind of guy you want to stay away from! In the C-Drama, his character was more narcissistic than creepy, but I think amped up the creep factor. He's creepy af in canon, too, so I make no apologies.**

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay hopeful.**

**~Rae**

*official Chapter 27 will be posted next week


	67. chapter 27

**[chapter_27]**

Bella can't find her meal card. She's looked everywhere - in her pile of dirty clothes, in each of her bags, in the pages of her textbook, her wallet, the drawer in her desk where she hides her snack stash - and it hasn't turned up anywhere. Bumming off of Leah's meal card is only going to last for so long, so she resigns herself to getting a new one from the administration building.

But then it turns up at Masen's loft, having apparently fallen out of her bag when she stayed over the week before. Masen texts her with the news Tuesday morning, so after her last class of the day, she goes over to the Midnight Sun office to pick it up. She doesn't have any plans to stay; the more she can stay on top of her coursework, the more time she will have on Friday and maybe the weekend to contribute to the Volturi project.

Bella does not expect to walk into Masen's office and find herself in the middle of a discussion between Masen, Peter, and Liam about how best to incorporate her character-fluid design into the demo. The three have apparently been in deep talks for a while now, a stack of graphing paper being passed between them and notated; Peter whines about all the coding that would be involved with that much diversity, while Masen takes the prospect of more work calmly and Liam continuously tells Peter to shut up.

She smiles and knocks on the office door, waving sheepishly when all three turn to look at her.

The tense line of Masen's jaw relaxes at the sight of her. He immediately reaches for her meal card on his desk, even as she approaches. "It was under the couch," he tells her.

She grasps it closely to her chest. "Thank you for finding it. Leah was starting to give me looks for eating up all her meal points."

Masen picks up his phone, which was lying face-down on the desk. "What's her number? I'll Venmo compensation."

"Oh, that's not necessary!" she says hastily. Knowing Masen, he would fully deliver on that promise; it makes her feel warm, even though it's a little over the top. "She's just like that. She'll get over it."

"Mm." Masen puts down the phone anyway, despite the slightly skeptical look in his eye.

She bites back a grin.

"Fuck me, this is so domestic," Peter sighs happily. "Are me and Garret like this? If we are, we're so fucking cute."

Bella looks over just in time to see Liam make a deeply pained face. "No, you two are gross. That's what you are."

Peter rolls his eyes. "Again with the homophobia. It's getting old, Liam."

Liam's nostrils flare, his fair skin almost as red as his hair. "It's not homophobia!" he insists loudly. "What's getting old is seeing K.O.'s hand on your ass, in the middle of the office, and then getting skinned by his glare when he notices anybody looking!"

Peter shrugs, careless. "I don't know what the big deal is," he says. "Just don't look."

Liam twitches. He looks at Masen, beseeching. "I don't think I can work like this. I can't do it. That's just too much PDA."

Masen blinks, silent.

When it becomes obvious he doesn't intend to say anything, Bella clears her throat delicately. "Um, I can just talk to Garrett about toning it down. He's a reasonable guy."

She doesn't realize until after she's already made the offer that this is exactly what Masen wanted, if the slightly smug tilt of his mouth is anything to go by. Internally, she kicks herself for once again witlessly walking into one of his little maneuvers, but at the same time, it really probably is better if it's her taking the issue up with Garrett instead of someone else. He's nicest to her, second only to Peter. And he can be reasonable, she thinks, even in the face of his apparent not-ideal-for-public-settings possessiveness.

Liam doesn't notice any of these under-the-surface machinations, of course. He only looks relieved that somebody, anybody, is going to handle the PDA issue.

She offers them all a smile, tucking her meal card carefully away. "Well, I should get going. I'll stop by Garrett's food truck on my way back," she promises.

Masen catches her hand before she turns away, taking a moment to squeeze her fingers gently while holding eye contact, a silent message she receives with a flip of her heart. She squeezes back, feeling soft, and barely registers Liam telling Peter that "this is the type of PDA that is acceptable, okay?" and to "take notes, damn it".

"Later," she says quietly.

"Mm."

Bella practically floats through the office, which is probably why she doesn't notice Emmett until he is already upon her. He has a slightly harried air about him, a wide-eyed giddiness that has her taking a step back. She attributes it - probably correctly - to the fact that Rose turned his entire world upside down the night before. Bella had been treated to a pleasantly smug reenactment from Rose the night before, so she can only imagine that Emmett is feeling the verve of no longer being Library Guy.

However, this does very little to explain why the first words out of his mouth are: "So, if I were to get Rose a present, what would it be?"

"Um. What?"

Emmett stares at her as if she's being deliberately difficult. "A present for Rose," he repeats. "What should it be?"

Bella holds her hands up, waving them slightly. "No, I heard you the first time," she says. "I'm just not sure why you're asking me. Or why you think she needs a present?"

"To thank her for going out with me and being my girlfriend," Emmett says promptly.

Oh, boy. This is so far above Bella's pay grade. She isn't sure if Rose has done something to Emmett, or if this is just Emmett's default setting when he's dating. She really isn't the authority on anything related to dating, because, between the two of them, Masen seems more natural at it. Emmett should be asking Masen - but he's probably asking her instead because she knows Rose so well.

In that case, Bella supposes it's her responsibility to set Emmett straight on her friend's behalf.

"Emmett, you don't need to get her a thank-you gift," she tells him plainly.

"Yes, I do."

"No, you really don't."

Emmett abruptly looks like a very helpless, very confused little boy in spite of his large frame. "But then how will she know I'm thankful for the chance?"

"You show her," Bella says slowly, trying to pluck the advice from thin air. "Just, you know, not with a present."

Even as she says the words, she feels a vague sense of deja vu. It wasn't so long ago that another guy was buying presents for one of her close friends to illustrate his affection. Is this how wooing is done? Masen hadn't operated like this. He'd taken her places and arranged dates around her interests, but he hadn't plied her with presents until her bracelet, which she wears with religious zeal. Either Masen is more well-adjusted than other men, or he missed a memo somewhere down the line.

Bella's willing to bet it's because Masen has a cooler head on his shoulders.

Emmett still looks a little lost and, feeling guilty for taking the wind out of his sails, Bella sighs. "I guess if you really had to - and you don't have to, by the way - but if you really felt like it was necessary, Rose likes practical things," she tells him. Of course, Rose mostly likes practical things because everything impractical she could possibly want is shipped to her buy this or that company wanting her to endorse their product on Instagram, but Bella feels that this goes without saying. "She goes through paper and pens like water because of all of her math courses."

Emmett makes a face. "You want me to give her school supplies?"

"Well..."

"What about roses? Roses for Rose? Or something rose-shaped, like an eraser or a pillow? Or rose jewelry? Or rose-"

"Emmett," Bella cuts in swiftly. "Let me stop you right there. If you ever listen to any advice I ever give you, let it be this. Do not ever, under any circumstances, give Rose anything even remotely related to roses. I mean it. Get her anything else."

Somehow, Emmett brightens despite her cautionary tone, as if she's just given him the keys to the kingdom. Maybe she has. She has no idea what's going through his head and, honestly, she doesn't want to know or be more involved than she already is. At the very least, she hopes the message got through to not give Rose any rose-related items, because while Bella's little swan shine is funny, if not more than a little mortifying, Rose does not share the same sense of humor.

"Thanks, intern," Emmett says with great enthusiasm, jovially meandering away before she can summon a response.

She watches him go and thinks maybe she should give Rose a heads-up, just in case.

Bella shakes her head, leaving the office only to trot down to the food truck a few blocks away. It seems like she's getting involved in all her friend's love lives today. She doesn't mind it as much as she thought she would. She does think, however, that she's an ineffectual agent given Garrett's blank stare when she bashfully hints that he and Peter should maybe, probably, if it wasn't too much trouble, keep the PDA to a minimum, at least in the office.

"I just really think Liam is going to call the cops on you for public indecency," she tells him, and she's a little alarmed to learn that Garrett doesn't seem to mind the idea.

Bella sighs. At least she tried. Liam is just going to have to get used to it or learn how to not look.

* * *

**Bella Swan ʘthelittlecygnet**

Well **ʘthenotfamousliam** I talked to him, but I don't think it's going to help

**Not Liam Payne But Thanks ʘthenotfamousliam**

#whyme

**Alistair the Recluse ʘratherbealone**

This isn't only your pain **ʘthenotfamousliam** I too am #suffering

**Peter C. ʘpeteypete**

oh look **ʘonlyknockout!** they're talking about us! 3 3 3

**Knock Knock ʘonlyknockout**

Good.

* * *

Bella has never quite felt the urge to smack anyone. Not seriously, at least. A pinch or a poke when Leah is being annoying, a rap on the back of Jake's head when a joke goes too blue, a tug of Seth's ear to keep him on the right track - those are all, she thinks, nuggets of physical affection. But the urge to smack sense into someone? It has completely bypassed her.

Until now, until this very moment, when she is watching Cherry Lane drag her name through the mud for, as far as she can tell, no good or legitimate reason.

It was supposed to be an average guild meeting. Everyone was supposed to pool and divvy up resources, they were supposed to talk about guild-wide dungeons they can complete for prestige, they were supposed to welcome any new members and talk about how to up the Illuminating Lotus rankings. There wasn't supposed to be any accusations thrown around about Swansong selling guild supplies for profit to those outside of the guild, and there certainly wasn't supposed to be a need for Bella to prove her innocence.

She's been playing with this guild for just over two years. They should know her by now and that means they should know that she would never extort the guild for her own gain, not when she's one of the top donors every meeting, giving more than her share of spare supplied to the guild stores. They should know better than to trust Cherry Lane, who has spent the last few weeks flitting around between the single players and sowing just enough discord to give Queen V and Relentless the leverage they need to rise up in the guild ranks.

But maybe Bella is the only one who notices this. Maybe it's just because she spends so much time around a strategic mastermind and Masen's observational skills have rubbed off on her. Maybe that's why she sees this for what it is - a coup, a move to get her out of the guild.

**《 Janeway:** This is bullshit

Bella's eyes flicker to the private message Janeway sends her. She smiles without much humor because Janeway is right. But Bella doesn't reply right away, her eyes roving over the guild chat - arguing over Cherry Lane's accusations, more and more of them turning with the tide, eager to believe a negative fact rather than a defense because people are like that. She gnaws on her lip.

《 **Janeway:** Aren't you going to fight back?

**《 Janeway:** Say something!

**》Swansong:** I have. They aren't listening

《 **Janeway:** Say something more!

《 **Janeway:** You can't let this bitch do this!

Janeway has been vocal in the guild chat, too, but there hasn't been much progress. The last twenty minutes has been a masterclass in how one person can use misinformation to completely derail the truth and it doesn't help that Swansong is known for being willing to sell potions off to the side. Of course, those are Bella's own potions, made from her own daily quest gathered materials and brewed on her own time - but that truth doesn't matter. Even for all she donates to the guild, how can she prove her innocence? And even if she could - does she want to? Does she want to prove anything to people who don't want to believe her in the first place?

No. No, she doesn't want to do that. It feels like a monumental waste of energy. Bella doesn't have time or the interest necessary to prove herself to anyone, for any reason. She doesn't need the emotional drain, not when gaming is supposed to be fun.

**》Swansong:** You're not going to like this

《 **Janeway:** Oh no. Nononononononononoooo

《 **Janeway:** I have a feeling I know what you're going to do

《 **Janeway:** damnit

**》Swansong:** It's no big deal

《 **Janeway:** I beg to fucking differ!

Bella feels a swell of fondness rush through her. It's only Janeway and a handful of others in the guild who have stood by her side with these accusations. Bella will remember this and maybe Swansong can pay them back later. Somehow.

Bella switches to the group chat and, without any ceremony, announces her plan.

**》Swansong:** I'm leaving the guild

**》Swansong:** I don't want to be caught up in false and unnecessary drama

**》Swansong:** Once a guild, always a guild. If you need help, please reach out.

The guild chat explodes with both cheers and protests. Ironically, some of the people who were defaming her only moments before are the same ones who are begging her not to leave. Capricious. She doesn't have very much affection for those people.

The current guild leader, JK Cheng, is quick to send her a private message, and she's quick to respond. Firm, holding her ground, ignoring the frothing fury of the guild as they all argue amongst themselves now.

**《 JK Cheng:** You don't have to leave the guild. We can resolve this.

**》Swansong:** We really can't. There is truth and there is untruth.

**》Swansong:** I have more self-respect than to defend myself uselessly against lies.

Let that serve as a reminder to him that he shouldn't just believe whatever somebody says without having all the facts. But of course, Bella hadn't missed the way Cherry Lane and JK Cheng have been hanging out, and Janeway has been all too happy to tell Bella all about the rumors that JK Cheng has tried to pursue Cherry Lane outside of the game. Bella doesn't doubt for a second that part of what motivated him to bring Cherry Lane's accusation up during the guild meeting was inspired by his romantic interests. It's a real shame, too. He's usually a good guild leader.

Janeway's private message pings again.

《 **Janeway:** Now they'll just think you're guilty because you're leaving

**》Swansong:** I have a solution to that.

Bella pulls up her inventory and scrolls through everything she is willing to unload, which is quite a sizeable haul. Without hesitation - and admittedly feeling a little vindictive, not at all above guilt-tripping her detractors now that the mood has struck - she transfers her personal store of supplies to the guild store and then, not even a moment later, withdraws her guild membership. Doing so immediately cuts her off from seeing the guild chat, but that's okay. She doesn't want to read what they've said anyway.

Let them do what they want, as far as she's concerned.

《 **Janeway:** I can't believe you did that

《 **Janeway:** well I mean, I can believe it, because you're you

《 **Janeway:** But still!

**》Swansong:** Change is good sometimes

《 **Janeway:** What will you do now?

《 **Janeway:** Join another guild?

**》Swansong:** I doubt it

**》Swansong:** Keeping up with a guild is getting harder these days and I'm sure it'll be harder next semester

**》Swansong:** Being a free agent sounds like a good idea for now

《 **Janeway:** If you say so

《 **Janeway:** I guess you never struggle to get your own resources, anyway

《 **Janeway:** If anything, you being in the guild was a charity for us

《 **Janeway:** Stupid Cherry Lane

《 **Janeway:** Idiots all of them

**》Swansong:** It's okay

**》Swansong:** Nothing changes between us

**《 Janeway:** Oh I know but I'm still pissed because one of us has to be

And maybe Janeway is right. Bella can't say she's completely unbothered by the fact that she's had to give up Illuminating Lotus to save herself the hassle of drama-minded people clearly trying to stoke discord, but she isn't entirely put-out by it, either. It's almost a relief, in a way. She hadn't realized how caged-in she was feeling lately now that Relentless, Queen V, and the others had joined the guild. Maybe it hadn't been outright, but she'd had the inescapable feeling that she was being watched when she was with the guild - and more than once over the last few days, she's seen avatar handles hovering just out of screen scope, so she knows certain players have been following her.

If anything, in all of this, what bothers her the most is that Relentless let it happen - and the idea that maybe Relentless wanted it to happen. It sounds paranoid, she knows, but all the same...Of course, considering what he allowed to happen with the video contest, she isn't sure why she's so surprised. She's known his true character for a while. It makes sense that birds of a feather would flock together. As to why they're targeting her - well, she doesn't care.

It's not a problem anymore.

Or if it is, it's not her problem.

* * *

**Dawn of Warcraft - NorCal Server - General Forum**

**SWANSONG LEAVES ILLUMINATING LOTUS?**

Posted 10.13.2020 by Anonymous

Holy shit, y'all! Have you heard? Swansong left her guild! Apparently, there was this whole thing from some know-nothing player about Swansong double-dealing potions from the guild stores - total bullshit! - and Swansong got so fed up that she deadass just left Illuminating Lotus.

What does this mean!? It was such a huge deal when she joined and now it's an even bigger deal that she left! Like! Is she going to join another guild? Is she and Master Culler going to make their own guild?! They have those wicked tigers, right? They could totally do it and if they do, I'm the first to sign up!

But the point! The Point is that what the actual fuck for Illuminating Lotus! I can't believe they let it get that far!

**Comments**

**T-Tracker **yah, yah, I heard it too! Swansong was like "I don't have time for drama" and just Bye Felicia'd all of them!

**DunDunDune** Okay, no, but that's not even the best part. I heard that she also had two parting shots! First, she told the guild they could always call on her if they need an assist like the classy Queen she is AND THEN she unloaded her entire inventory in this huge passive aggressive powermove that makes me feel guilty as shit - and I wasn't even involved!

**Rundertow** What a fukken Flex. That's so iconic.

**DaneGame** What a time to be alive. But also, fuck Illuminating Lotus. Who's the guild leader? Think they need to learn a lesson and resign from their position.

**Shoonloom** Swansong proves once again she's a class act. Nobody can compare.

_Read More Comments_

* * *

"Did you guys know we're starting our own guild?" Peter asks on Friday during lunch. He's perched shamelessly in Garrett's lap, alternating feeding them both the toasted turkey sub and fried pickles Garrett had brought from the food truck.

Bella side-eyes Alistair, watching as he rolls his eyes but doesn't look directly at Peter when he replies, as if doing his best to save himself the disturbance of public affection. She can't help but find it funny. Peter and Garrett are a little over-the-top, sure, but Peter is that way by default. She isn't sure what anybody else expected.

"We are not starting our own guild," Alistair says with a sniff. "Who has the time?"

"I know that and you know that," Peter agrees, holding the sub for Garrett to take his bite. "But the rest of the forum is absolutely convinced and I say we give the people what they want. For our name, it should be something truly legendary. I'm thinking, Masterclass. Cool, right?"

"We are not starting our own guild," Alistair repeats, more firmly this time.

"And if we did, Masterclass wouldn't be what we named it," Emmett cuts in. "That's such a dumb name."

Peter lifts his chin challengingly. "Oh, yeah? Then what would you call it?"

As Emmett and Peter bicker over which of their (terrible) names are the best, Bella turns her head to catch Masen's steady gaze. He's studying her, looking for any sign that she's distressed, but Bella had only been bothered about the guild thing for a day or two. Now she's made peace with it and the only bothersome thing is the constant DOW rumor mill, once again hard at work speculating and prospecting.

"It's fine," she tells him quietly.

His fingers slide between her own. "Mm."

"The guild wasn't what it used to be," she explains truthfully. "After Relentless bought his way in, the whole guild felt weird. More competitive than comforting. That feeling of camaraderie was completely gone."

"Mm."

"I just hope Janeway leaves before it gets worse," she tacks on, taking a sip of her water. "What do you think? Did I do the right thing?"

Masen's expression is calm and so is his voice. "If you feel that you did the right thing, then so do I," he tells her.

That simple support does more to comfort her than anything anyone else has said about the matter. She smiles at him, a wide eye-scrunching grin, and finishes her lunch with a pleasant warmth bubbling between her ribs.

The rest of the day is like that. It's just now mid-October and there's been a lot of progress on the DOW2 demo, by which she means that the programmers have been hard at work while the beginning stages of the animation process has begun. Bella is far more involved in this portion than she had been with Menagerie; instead of just sketching out the design and passing it off to one of the others, now Bella is doing both parts. It's a little more difficult this way and she's slow at first, not having the experience for the more advanced programs Midnight Sun uses because she hasn't had access to the material in her classes yet. But Bella has always been a hands-on learner and she's acclimating fast enough that she's almost keeping pace with Charles and Liam, if not Alistair, who shows them daily why he's the head of the department.

Bella ends up spending the rest of her day hunched in front of her computer, flying through the animation of some of the avatar variables she'd designed herself. She makes rudimentary coding notes to take some strain off the programmers, but mostly she fixates and making sure that all of the avatar options come together just right. Pride is a tricky friend, but she lets it surge through her anyway, immensely pleased with how advanced the avatar creation will be in comparison to other MMORPGs on the market right now.

Before she quite realizes it, Bella is one of the only ones left in the office aside from the people who live in the building and a few stragglers finishing up their projects. It's Masen who draws her away from her work, dragging his hand lightly over the back of her head and down to her shoulder, where his fingers curl softly into the jut of her collarbone. "Save and close," he urges quietly. "We have a date."

This is news to Bella, but she is quick to comply anyway, a new sort of eagerness replacing her work-related fixation. A date with Masen Cullen is always something to look forward to.

It turns out that Masen's idea of a date for tonight is more of a homebody proposal. He guides her upstairs and hands her a stack of takeout brochures, which she takes with something like a relief - she wants to spend more time with him, of course, but she likes spending time together in private, where she can lean into his space and breathe his air and take him in without needing to share him with anyone else. Maybe he senses that, or maybe the week has caught up to him. He does look a little tired, the slightest of shadows under his eyes.

Bella smiles and flips through a few menus. "I can't decide," she says after a few moments. "You decide."

Masen lifts a brow. "Alright. We'll both pick," he says, taking half the stack from her. "Close your eyes and pick one at random."

Bella does as she's instructed and winds up with a nearby burger joint; Masen, on the other hand, ends up with a Korean BBQ place. "Play me for it?" she wonders, and Masen nods. A rather intense best three-out-of-five games of rock-paper-scissors later, Masen places a call for the Korean place and Bella moseys over to the shelves he has on either side of his television. This shelf in particular houses his extensive collection of games, which she hasn't spent near enough time looking through, so when her eyes land on one game, she can't hold back the exceedingly surprised gasp that rips out of her throat.

Masen, concerned, by the noise, is quick to turn to her in askance even though he's still in the middle of placing their order.

In answer, Bella holds up the game she found, bouncing on her toes in excitement.

Comprehension crosses his face and he smirks the entire way through the placement of their dinner order.

Bella barely holds herself back until he hangs up. "I can't believe you have this," she bursts out excitedly. She holds up the blue game case, exceedingly pleased. "Have you set any records? I need to know. I'm putting it in!"

"The PlayStation is in the second drawer," Masen says helpfully, passing through the kitchen to collect drinks and cutlery. By the time he comes back to the living room with iced tea and forks, Bella has already deftly hooked his old PlayStation 2 - such a relic, but very neatly preserved - up to his television and is sitting primly on the couch while the game boots up. Masen sits beside her, arm thrown over the back of the couch, and observes her fondly. "You look happy."

"Oh, you have no idea," she says with honest energy. She turns to him, catching his softly fond expression with a gleefully, giggling rise in her chest. "This is such a cult favorite game, you know. I hold the highest score at home. Seth and I would play for hours and hours."

"Katamari Damacy is pretty good."

"Pretty good," she parrots with a teasing smile. She nods her head to the screen and the high score list still stored on his PlayStation memory card. "Just by looking at this, I can see how much you've played it."

"It's relaxing," he says peaceably.

"It is relaxing," she agrees. Then she hands him the second controller and selects the two-person mode. "I bet I can beat you."

Masen lifts his brows and straightens his posture, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, holding the controller in clearly skilled hands. "You're on."

She doesn't like the confidence in his voice, which suggests that she has no chance of beating him. "This is war," she tells him, starting the game.

"Mm," he agrees. And then, because he's a terrible cheater, he has the audacity to daze her by placing a kiss on her cheek and wishing her luck.

Bella spends exactly two seconds feeling flushed and warm before she realizes what he's done, and then she surges to her feet, pressing her thumbs on the controller to win back the time he'd stolen with his little distraction. "You're a cheat!" she cries.

Masen's muffled laughter rings through the loft. "All's fair," he says simply, and then proceeds to try to annihilate her score by playing with vicious, single-minded focus.

It's just too bad for Masen that Bella is such an old hand at this game that it's actually fairly easy for her to regain her equilibrium. "I'm going to win," she tells him when the countdown clock is nearing the three-minute mark. She's still on her feet, which is perhaps an oversight given she'd already established that Masen is a shameless cheat. With ten seconds left to spare, Masen snags her around the waist, pulls her into his lap, and then plays the last ten seconds around her body while her own controller is pathetically abandoned on the floor.

Her mouth has dropped open and she stares up at him in naked shock. "You really are a cheat," she says dumbly. And then, irked at his gall, she wiggles around in his lap, pouting at tugging at him while he smirks down at her. "I can't believe you! I demand a rematch! I want a clean, fair game and -"

Masen's lips cut her off, a sweet, slow kiss that calms her temper in increments. A smooth pleasure sings up her spine, warmth suffusing every inch of her body.

When he pulls back, she follows him an inch and then stops, pulling back. "I still want a rematch," she says, considerably less vexed.

"After dinner," he promises.

"Huh?"

Masen nods his head to his phone, which is buzzing on the couch beside him. "Dinner's here."

Bella blushes brightly, and as he runs downstairs to meet the delivery person with their food, she wonders which is more embarrassing at the moment - the fact that she got so caught up in a simple game or the fact that Masen can distract her so thoroughly with kisses. Both, probably.

But maybe it doesn't matter that much either way.

* * *

**Turing Is Our Hero (Group Chat)**

Peter Panda

None of you will BELIEVE

what I saw upstairs

Squidward

If it's sex related please don't tell me

Peter Panda

I don't think it is

unless Mom and Dad are kinky

Squidward

I'm out

I don't want to know

Em Likes Pi

Wait who's mom and dad in this

Peter Panda

Obviously I'm talking about

Bella and Masen

Em Likes Pi

Yeah okay I can see it

Continue

Squidward

are you serious

Em Likes Pi

I thought you were ignoring the chat

Squidward

(middle finger emoji)

Peter Panda

AnYWaY

You don't believe what I saw!

I can't believe Masen would own

something like that!

I'm really shook!

Em Likes Pi

for fucks's sake man

what is it!?

Peter Panda

I don't know which is more surprising

the PS2

or the puzzle game

Squidward

you're talking about a game?

how is that kinky?

Peter Panda

Uhm, don't you find using inferior

technology and being frustrated by it

a sexy thing?

LIke, "Oh, this system is soooo bad?"

Em Likes Pi

how to delete myself

I can't believe I read that with my own eyes

Squidward

no, I don't think that's sexy

because I'm normal

unlike you

Peter Panda

WOW you guys are boring

Em Likes Pi

Yeah, maybe

or maybe you're weirder than we thought

Squidward

what was the game?

Peter Panda

Oh man! Are you sure you want to know?

Squidward

why else would I ask?

Peter Panda

alright alright

ookay here it is

Katamari Damacy!

I think Masen was playing as Prince!

I saw their Make a Star records and dude!

let me tell you!

the scores were ridiculous for a three minute

time limit!

Em Likes Pi

You know a lot about a game you're

making fun of, Pete

Squidward

Agree

Peter Panda

I am not

Em Likes Pi

Sure, okay, I believe that

Squidward

I don't

What's your record, Peter?

Em Likes Pi

Apparently not as good as

Mom and Dad's

Peter Panda

oh shut up

I just have a hard time believing

Masen owns such a dated system

Squidward

Hey, the PS2 was a solid gaming system

Plenty of entertaining games and a clear

step up from the PS1

Em Likes Pi

I can't believe you're such an elitist

Peter Panda

I'm not elitist!

Masen is!

Mad Hatter

Clearly I'm not

Peter Panda

Fuck!

I hate when you lurk on the chat!

Mad Hatter

Good

Em Likes Pi

So Mase

You played a game to cheer your girl

up, right?

Peter Panda

Of course he did

Otherwise why would he bring out those relics?

Mad Hatter

Not relics

Peter Panda

I beg to differ

Squidward

Go beg K.O. instead

Em Likes Pi

So savage

But Mase didn't answer the question

Peter Panda

Fuck your question, I want to know

who won!

There weren't any names on the records

Em Likes Pi

Jesus Pete

How long were you up there?

Peter Panda

Long enough obviously

Squidward

I think you need to use a key Masen

Peter Panda

Oh whatever

So

Who won

Mad Hatter

Neither

Peter Panda

What!

No there was clearly one player

with a higher score!

Mad Hatter

I cheated

Em Likes Pi

What

Squidward

You cheated? Why?

Peter Panda

LOL oh I get it

You cheated to win!

And you did it because Bella was

owning your ass!

Em Likes Pi

She's even good at that huh?

Squidward

What else would you expect from Swanning?

Em Likes Pi

Chill out fanboy

Mase might get jealous

Peter Panda

Is Masen even capable of jealousy

Well he is capable of being a

total cheat so...

Mase?

Mad Hatter

(read at 11:39PM)

Em Likes Pi

Solid answer, bro

Peter Panda

Masen Cullen: Fully Capable of Jealousy

You learn something every day

Em Likes Pi

Truth

* * *

Rose comes back to the dorm just shy of eleven at night, which is awfully late for a dinner date that she insisted would not turn into an overnight thing until she's absolutely sure she won't break her date. Understanding in general Rose's attitude toward sex, Bella had decided this was probably a wise decision for Emmett's continued health and safety. So it isn't entirely unreasonable that Bella, Alice, and Leah have turned the tables on Rose and are waiting for her to return home. The three of them are clumped together on the common room floor, passing around two different tin buckets of flavored popcorn and watching Hocus Pocus to get in the October mood. Rose walks in on this, takes one look at Bella's quirked eyebrow, and rolls her eyes.

"Okay, yeah, I get it," Rose says, closing and locking the door behind her. She slumps out of her denim jacket, kicks off her shoes, and squeezes between Leah and Alice on the floor. "Message received, Bella," Rose says around a mouth of popcorn.

Bella pops a piece of caramel popcorn in her mouth. "Good," she says with a crunch.

"Did you have a good time?" Alice asks earnestly.

Rose looks down and away, and someone would have to be blind to not recognize the pleased expression on her face. "It was pretty fun. He took me to this little Italian place, insisted on buying tiramisu, and then we went to this park with an actual old-fashioned carousel in it." The smile on Rose's bright red smile widens. "He stuttered the whole time, too, but cutely. I could tell he was trying to impress me. Nobody's ever put in that much effort before."

"Sounds like a keeper," Leah observes.

Rose shrugs, aiming for nonchalant but not quite hitting the mark. "Yeah, maybe."

"What's that bag by the floor?" Alice asks.

Bella follows her gaze, spies the red floral bag that is so obviously a present and feels her stomach drop. Didn't she tell Emmett to stay away from roses? Anything floral is clearly toeing the line way too close. "He got you a present?"

"Oh, right." Rose sits up and stretches backward, dragging the bag closer and then into her lap. She pulls out the present with a satisfied air. "I don't know that I've ever gotten something like this on a date. Flowers or chocolates, sure. But a calculator case?"

Rose shows off the soft-shell case large enough to house her scientific calculator, making a point to tell them how useful the zipper will be for her pencils and other instruments she needs for her statistic courses.

Bella sits back in relief, a smile tugging at her lips. He actually listened to her and she can tell that it's left a huge impression on Rose. Good. That's so good.

"He's a good guy," Rose says, a fond sort of softness in her voice. "I'm glad I gave him a chance."

"I feel the same way," Alice says with a giddy smile. "I mean, about you, but also about me and Jasper."

"Oh? So, that's going well, too?" Rose checks, eyes a tiny bit sharper than before.

Alice blushes happily.

Rose makes a sound of acknowledgment, then cuts her eyes to Bella. She eyes the bracelet on Bella's wrist and says, "I guess I don't need to ask about you."

Bella smiles widely and shakes her head.

"Okay, you're all deliriously happy," Leah drones. "I get it. Please, spare me."

Bella nudges Leah's ribs with her toes. "You're happy, too."

Leah wrinkles her nose. "I'll be happier when the documentary airs."

"Me too," Rose mutters, carefully packing away her calculator case. "Then we can stop hearing about how nervous you are."

"Love you too, bitch," Leah shoots back.

Rose blows her a kiss.

Alice laughs, leaning around Rose to pat at Leah's vividly purple hair. "Just look at it this way," she says brightly. "You only have a couple more days to wait for the premiere."

"Yay," Leah deadpans, burying her face in her arms.

Bella bites the inside of her cheek, shooting a slightly worried look to Rose and Alice. They probably haven't ever seen Leah like this, but Bella has - exactly one time, before the first time Leah uploaded a video to YouTube. Leah's intense personality can really rear it's head at the most inconvenient times, especially when circumstances are out of her control. Leah, to a certain extent, certainly thrives off public option - something Bella doesn't think is all that unusual for a student of film, where public reception is so crucial to success. She can understand the way that kind of anticipation can gnaw at someone. She knows it well enough now that she's working at Midnight Sun. Her stomach had been in knots before the Menagerie release, too, and she'd only been tangentially involved.

Leah's documentary is Leah's soul and passion on a platter. This should be expected. But that doesn't mean Bella just has to let her sister suffer.

Taking a gamble, Bella changes the subject. "You could be as deliriously happy as us," Bella says teasingly. "Ace and aro relationships are a thing, you know."

Leah groans. "Ugh! Spare me!"

Bella laughs, loud and free. Perfect, that was the exact reaction she was aiming for. "You sound just like Alistair," she tells her sister.

Rose squints her eyes. "Which one was that one, again?"

"The grumpy British one," Alice tells her in sotto voce.

"Ah, right. The Pale Prince Harry one."

"You saw it too!" Alice giggles.

"Well, I'm not blind, am I?" Rose wonders sardonically.

Bella ignores them, paying attention to the way Leah has turned to look at her suspiciously. "How do I sound like some English dude?"

"He's ace, too," Bella tells her. "He has the same attitude about the couples around him."

Leah looks thoughtful, propping herself up on her elbows. "He doesn't care about any of this stuff, either?"

Bella shakes her head and watches the gears turning in her sister's head with great satisfaction.

Leah can always use another friend, especially one that can relate to her on a level that Bella quite simply can't. Maybe this will be good for her.

It will definitely be less worrisome than her friendship with Peter, at any rate.

* * *

**Dawn of Warcraft ʘdowofficial**

The NorCal is kicking up with heated debates proving that top players have drama we can only dream of making #cantrelate

**Leroy L PussInLoots**

How is it drama when Swansong was PUSHED OUT OF THE GUILD SHE HELPED BUILD?!

**Smith or Smyth ʘsmithersismyname**

Bro you aren't kidding

**Doug ʘdiggingmyowngrave**

Illuminating Lotus was only mid level until Swansong joined and then they banked on her kickassness and got rid of her for some no level noobs? #IlluminatingLotusIsCanceled they did Swansong dirty

**Tricky Trix ʘsillyrabbit**

I heard it was a while coup orchestrated by Cherry LAME and Queen Venereal Disease and Relentlessly An Asshole

**JV ʘnotmyname**

**ʘsillyrabbit** I was there and saw the whole thing and you are not wrong. A lot of guild members are considering leaving out of loyalty and I'm one of them

**Tricky Trix ʘsillyrabbit**

Why not leave now

**JV ʘnotmyname**

I'm a slut for drama so I cant leave yet

**Tricky Trix ʘsillyrabbit**

Rip

* * *

Over the weekend, Bella doesn't have time to log into her Dawn of Warcraft account for Swansong because most of Saturday is spent streaming for Swanning and then Sunday is dedicated to cramming as much studying as possible into her waking hours. She doesn't even log in on Monday because she gets caught up in an impromptu study session with a few of her classmates who are struggling as much as she is in one of her software courses. And Tuesday, of course, is the premier of Leah's PBS documentary and that obviously consumes the rest of her attention.

Bella doesn't touch her computer for recreational purposes until Wednesday, and by then there are two things that are abundantly clear. The first is that her departure from the guild has caused more upset than she would have ever imagined, to the point where the guild is being strung through cancel culture with half of the forum dragging them like hyenas with prey. The second thing is that some people don't seem to get as enthused with her departure as she thought they would be.

Relentless is one of them. His private message to her is one of the dozens that express how much they wish she hadn't left the guild just because of Cherry Lane's drama. But his message goes a little further and it leaves her confused, because if he felt this way then shouldn't he have stopped the whole thing from happening in the first place?

**《 Relentless:** What happened is unfair to you. Cheng shouldn't have let it get that far, but he's a weak leader and Cherry Lane has a grudge. I'm sorry you left. You should come back. Queen Vs friends won't be a problem for you anymore, I can promise that much. Will you come back? The guild is better with you in it - and I miss you.

He misses her? He doesn't even know her - he never did. Not really.

Bella leans back from her laptop screen, lips turned downward. This is a weird message. Her gut is telling her it's weird. She might have thought Relentless was hacked, but the cadence of the message matches what she knows - it's just the message itself that seems wrong.

She is reminded, starkly, of the way he talked when he wanted them to meet up in person or when he wanted to trade pictures. This is the way he talks when he wants something, but Bella just can't figure out what it is he wants. What motivation could he have for getting her back into the guild? Is it some larger conspiracy? She feels bad for thinking it, but after everything that had happened, she doesn't think it's unreasonable. And maybe her insight really has gotten better, because she doesn't think she's wrong for being a little suspicious about all this.

Bella doesn't reply to the message or any of the other messages that ask her to come back to the guild.

She deletes them and moves on with her life.

* * *

**A/N: You should have definitely recognized one of the handles in the last Twitter exchange. She's lurking for a reason and I am so very ready for the reveal Now, on to chapter notes!**

**Okay, so, Katamari Damacy is such a great game. It's so stupid, because all you're doing is rolling over stuff to set a record and collect stars and solve puzzles, but it's strangely addictive. My friends and I played it obsessively for an entire summer in 8th and 9th grade, which would have been about 2008-2009, I think. It was first released in 2004 and has a few different versions; the latest version is Katamari Damacy Reroll, which is a remake of the original and was released in 2018 for the Nintendo Switch, although there are plans to release Katamari Damacy Reroll for PlayStation 4 and XBox One in November of this year (2020). Not going to lie, I am seriously considering a purchase. If you enjoy relaxing games in the vein of, like, Animal Crossing, then this is a good option for you. You can get the game for your PC on Steam.**

**(If my math is right, then Masen probably first played this game on the PlayStation 2 when he was about 8 or 9, so it would definitely be a childhood nostalgia game for him, if you were wondering.)**

**Ace is a short-version word for asexual, in case you were wondering. If someone calls themselves ace, then they're saying that they don't feel any sexual attraction to other people, or they might be saying that they're on the asexuality scale, which could mean that they experience sexual attraction rarely or under specific circumstances. It's also relevant, just in general, to highlight what "aro" means. If someone identifies as aro, then they are saying they are aromantic, which means they do not feel romantic attraction or don't feel that romantic emotional connection is important - however, aromantic people are fully capable of platonic love, it's just the romance part that trips them up. Some people are both aromantic and asexual, and some are a combination. For example, an asexual person might want romantic relationships, while an aromantic person might want only sex-based relationships. It's a whole kettle of fish, so I recommend doing some Googling. Being either ace or aro is perfectly acceptable and it's totally normal to fall somewhere in that scale. To reiterate: you don't have to want to be in love or want to have sex, and you don't have to want either of those things at the same time, or ever. Navigating ace and aro identity can be more difficult than others on the queer spectrum since there's an added bit of societal pressure that says both sex and love are important components to being "fulfilled" as a person. But you can have meaningful relationships without sex and without romance for your whole life, and that's totally fine.**

**(As to what Leah identifies as in particular - she's definitely ace, but is she aro? Is Alistair aro? Who knows! They're about to be ace buddies, though.)**

**Cancel culture is a form of public pressure through shaming. When you "Cancel" someone or something, it's because they've done something to go against the norm or that has violated the current acceptance of the times. For example, sometimes companies are "canceled" if it comes out that CEOs have used racial slurs; celebrities are "canceled" for donning blackface; it goes on and on. When something is "canceled", it's like an advanced form of protest. Not only are you saying, "Hey, I disagree with this and object to this thing you've done", but you're also saying, "I'm canceling you from my life to the extent that I will boycott your product". Cancel culture is a *little* out of hand, but I fully support it for legitimate reasons, especially if the person or entity being canceled does not show any remorse for whatever got them canceled in the first place. Some people like to use cancel culture for dumb things, like supporting the wrong sports team, but the intended purpose of cancel culture is to root out racism, sexism, and other prejudice or discrimination. Should Illumination Lotus be canceled for booting Swansong? No, because that would be a petty reason in real life, but Swansong has fans and Illuminating Lotus were being a big bag of dicks, so...**

**I think that was everything culture relevant for the chapter. So, as always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, and stay healthy.**

**~Rae**

You can imagine my thoughts about the current state of the world. I don't think my blood pressure has ever been so high. 25 more days, folks. We can make it.


	68. pbs knows my name and now so do you

**[PBS knows my name and now so do you]**

Leah has been posting videos online for literal years. She's honed her craft thanks to her favorite subject - her sister, her best friend - but that doesn't negate the awful gag-inducing nausea eating her up form the inside out as she sits (hides) between Bella's knees and waits for PBS to air the documentary Old Quil tricked her into making.

Another commercial plays and Leah scrunches her shoulders, which are wedged between the space Bella has made for her, up higher. Her fingers are curled, almost white-knuckled, over her knees. Sitting above her on one of the armchairs, Bella keeps petting the top of her head. It's more soothing than it has any right to be, but Leah doesn't protest.

They're in one of Robel Hall's common areas, the one on the first floor with the television set and the mostly-comfortable seating. Rose has, of course, taken charge of the remote and scared away anyone who looked like too much of an asshole, while Alice has been bopping around the growing crowd to pass out snacks to whoever looks like they want to stay and watch the trainwreck that has become Leah's life as of exactly twenty minutes ago.

"Minus two minutes!" Alice calls out. "Is everyone here? Does everyone have a seat?"

"You don't have a seat," Rose points out dryly.

"Oh!" Alice quickly turns around and snags the small free space between Rose and the arm of a couch. Alice bounces and turns a wide smile onto Leah. "I'm so excited! I've been waiting for this for weeks!"

"I think I'm going to barf," Leah mutters.

Bella pats the top of her head. "You'll be fine."

"I chose the wrong career," Leah tells her, shaking her head. "I can't deal with premiers. I'm physically ill. Look at me! I'm turning green!"

"That's the glow from the screen," Rose tells her with a snort.

So it is. Right. Okay, Leah is losing her shit. She really isn't cut out for this. She really -

Bella leans down and wraps her arms around Leah's shoulders, her chin pressing into the top of Leah's head. Bella gives her a solid squeeze. "Hey, you're freaking out for no reason, you know," she says soothingly. "This isn't all that different from the YouTube stuff, right? You were nervous the first time you posted something, but you got over it. This is the same thing."

"It's not the same," Leah mutters. "This is actually important."

Bella flicks her ear and Leah slaps her hand over it sting with a mild protest. Bella ignores her and flicks her other ear, instead. "Are you saying my life isn't important? This is a huge insult, you know. I spend the last, what, five or six years being your little film experiment, and it turns out the whole time, you don't even consider it important."

Leah blows out a huff of air. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Yeah," Bella says, the smile evident in her voice. "I do know it. But the point still stands."

Leah shakes her head again, reaching up to squeeze at Bella's wrists. "The point is that this is, like, the first step of my actual career. What if it sucks? What if it gets my name blacklisted and my entire career is ruined before it even starts?"

"Do you really think PBS would have chosen a dud as the winner?"

Well, no. When Bella puts it like that, it makes all of Leah's anxiety sound so _unreasonable_, which is probably the point. But still.

"Crappy movies are made all the time," Rose says from the couch, raising her voice just loud enough to be heard over the din of the television set and curious onlookers. "Look at everything Tarantino has made."

"Anything by Tim Burton," Alice adds around a mouthful of sunflower seeds.

"And that guy that made _The Shape of Water_," Bella tacks on, her tone playful.

"Hey!" Leah says sharply, feeling a little outraged in spite of herself. She knows this is another point, that they're deliberately riling her up to distract her from her nerves and damn them if it doesn't work. "I know you guys are just making fun of me, but those are all my favorite directors! And none of their movies suck!"

"You have to admit _The Shape of Water_ was just...really, really weird," Bella says.

Leah will not admit that. Even if she agrees, she will take it to her grave.

She huffs at all three of them, and then when the familiar opening notes of her carefully-selected opening music plays on the television, she closes her eyes and tries not to cringe too much.

For all that Leah posts online, she hasn't ever witnessed anyone other than the La Push boys and her family watch the things she films. She knows the videos get a lot of views because she can read the numbers in her bank account, but she's never really seen the reception of her stuff from virtual strangers - so she isn't quite sure what she expects, but it isn't the hushed silence as her documentary starts playing, as her voice-over and cinematography takes viewers into the beauty and tradition of the Quileute Nation.

Leah takes a hesitant survey of the room. It's all Stanford students, so nobody here is _dumb_, but college students, in general, aren't the most likely candidates to watch a documentary. But she doesn't know - maybe it's because so-called Columbus day has just passed and the very recent memory of the on-campus Indigenous People's Day celebration is still fresh in co-ed minds, but there isn't a whole lot of yawning happening in the peanut gallery. A lot of people are actually watching with rapt attention, making themselves comfortable on the floor and leftover pieces of furniture. Someone asks Rose to turn the volume up, another hisses at someone to put their phone away.

Bella's arms squeeze around her shoulders again, like a silent, _I told you so_.

Leah takes a deep breath. She squeezes back. _Yeah, yeah. I know, you're always right about everything. I was being dumb_.

Leah turns her attention back to the television, watching her summer's hard work - now polished by the brilliant minds at PBS - play on-screen and in surround sound for everyone to experience. Her heart doesn't stop racing the whole time, and it turns out okay. It's fine. It's good, actually. Really good. Better-than-expected good, if she's being honest, but despite the knowing look Bella gives her, Leah isn't about to own up to the fact that her anxiety was mostly unnecessary.

Walking arm-in-arm back to their dorm, elbows crooked together, Leah rolls her eyes and Bella accepts it with her usual passively polite grace, flavored only by a glimmer of _I told you so_ Leah can recognize all-too-well. Rose, meanwhile, has dedicated herself to tossing out positive Tweets in response to the documentary and Alice chatters about how engaged everyone in the common area was.

This is what success feels like. Leah tries to internalize it as much as possible - but for as well as she knows her sister, she knows herself even better. She'll be a grumpy, anxious mess the next time something this important comes up. Which is fine. She can live with it. Anxiety is good for the soul, or whatever.

It isn't until they are bedding down for the night that Bella rolls over in her bed and eyes Leah across the room. "So," Bella sighs out. "Now that this is over, have you given any thought to the other thing?"

"What other thing?" It's a valid question; there's always something to be thinking about.

"The thing hiding in the second drawer of your desk," Bella says slyly.

Leah jack-knifes in her bed and barks out words in a demanding tone. "You're not supposed to know about that!"

"I think you should do it," Bella says, blithely ignoring Leah's outrage. That boyfriend of hers is a bad influence. Bella used to be...a tiny bit less sassy. "Getting your MFA would be good, I think."

Leah makes a face. "That's at least another 2 years of school, maybe 3 if I intern somewhere."

"And?"

"And it's a lot of money!" Leah says incredulously. "Do you have that kind of cash lying around? I don't."

Bella sits up in her bed, too, her lips pursed into a serious moue. "Leah. Money is something we can figure out. Maybe you get another scholarship, or maybe you apply for some more loans. I can pitch in, too. Money is just...money. So, what's the hesitation really about?"

Leah takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Leave it to Bella to see clear through her. "I don't...want to be alone here. If I go for my MFA, then that's two whole years being…"

"Our codependency has to come to an end sometime, sis," Bella says gently.

"I know."

Leah does know that. She does. She just doesn't like it. But this is one of those growing-up things her mom told her about, right along with filing taxes and learning about what the actual fuck a mortgage was.

"It's not like we'll really drift apart. Physical distance isn't the same as, you know, emotional distance."

"I know that, too."

"Alright." Bella pauses, looks down at her wrist, twists that bracelet around. "But, you know, it's not like I'll be rushing back home, either. I have things here, people here, that I don't want to leave either, so I get it."

Leah snorts. "Oh, please. Just say that you don't want to leave your boyfriend and be done with it."

Bella lifts her chin. "It's not just Masen! It's the job, too. I'm still technically interning, but I think, maybe, I could have a place there. A permanent job, I mean, after I graduate."

Leah lifts her brows. "Is that on the table?"

Bella shrugs. "It could be. And with my degree, honestly, it's not like I'd want to move that far from Silicon Valley, anyway. And with yours, it makes sense to stay in California, right? We're both pretty much stuck here."

"Good points," Leah mutters, thinking deeply. Bella makes a lot of sense, but Leah figures that's mostly because Bella tends to do that, anyway. Still, it's reassuring. "I'm still going to think about it."

"I expect to see one of your Pro/Con lists any day now."

Leah reaches for the nearest thing to throw, which ends up being one of her socks. Bella dodges it with a quiet laugh and Leah rolls her eyes. Whatever anxiety-riddled tension had been riding the air has since disappeared and they both fall asleep easily.

When Leah wakes up the next day, she feels more settled. With Bella's assurance fresh in her mind, she spends more time actively thinking about what an MFA could do for her career. It would be more student loan debt, but hell, Leah's already going to pay for that for the next 20 to 30 years, so she might as well charge it up as much as she can, right?

Life goes on and Leah trudges along to her classes. Everything is normal.

Well, everything is a new normal.

It's about mid-week when she finally puts her finger on what has been bugging her in the back of her mind lately, and it's the fact that each of her closest friends is glued to their phones whenever possible. It takes a moment for it to click that all of her friends are in relationships now and she's the odd one out.

That's never really bothered her. She knows the kind of person she is and she doesn't think she's built for wanting to be with other people _like that_. But the companionship bit? That part does sound nice. She might not want to bang them - ever - but Leah thinks having a life partner would be good. Her codependency with Bella is proof enough that companionship is something she needs like air to breathe.

But - but the thing is this. Leah doesn't know if there's anyone who would make a good candidate. How do asexuals find partners? A dating app? Yeah, right. Leah isn't willing to compromise the sex part and she isn't even sure she could love someone deeply, romantically the way her friends seem to be able to. Who's going to put up with that?

The problem pings around in her head for a day before a possible solution comes to her. Bella had said something the other day about that pale, vampire-looking dude she works with - Alistair something. He's ace, too. Or aro. He's _something_ or else Bella wouldn't have said anything.

Alright, _maybe_ Leah is falling into her sister's clever set-up, but it's worth a shot, right? Leah could try going to the campus LGBTQ group, but Alistair is already screened by her sister for being relatively normal, which saves Leah some legwork. And as the only other possibly ace person Leah knows, he makes a good enough candidate. Plus, even for being more than a little tipsy on Bella's birthday, Leah remembers _some_ things about Alistair - including his cutting tongue, which she has to admit she admires.

Is that enough reason to approach someone? It could be. She's heard of worse reasons, not that she'll name-names or anything (_Jasper and Mike Newton and every other boy who's drooled over her sister's pretty face_). At least Leah can pick something in Alistair's personality that she finds interesting. Whether or not that's enough to establish something, well. There's only one way to find out, really.

If he doesn't want to be friends or whatever, then she's lost nothing.

Knowing that her sister goes to Midnight Sun on Fridays, Leah makes a point to lie about needing to study at the library on Thursday afternoon so she can BART over to the office. A lifetime of barging into male-dominated spaces makes it easy to walk into Midnight Sun, and even easier to call out to this Alistair when she sees him passing by.

He comes to a sudden stop and swivels around to stare at her, a haughty twist to his face. He takes his sweet time to meet her in the foyer, an icy blond brow lifted high on his forehead. "You," he says in a low, clipped British accent. "What do you want? Bella isn't here."

"I came to talk to you. Obviously," she drawls out, crossing her arms over her chest. She tilts her head to the doors. "So, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Alistair sighs heavily. He looks tired, but it also seems like a perpetual thing for him. "Lead on."

Leah does, walking out of the building and going down the sidewalk a few fair steps before turning around. Now isn't the time to beat around the bush, so she just comes out with it. "Do you want to platonically date me?" she asks. "With the goal of being, like, platonic life partners?"

Alistair stares for a moment before a fine wrinkle forms on his brow. "Pardon?"

Okay. Probably not the best way to start out. Leah clicks her tongue, mostly at herself, and huffs out her frustration. "Look," she starts off with a firm tone that is, all in all, not exactly friendly or appealing to someone with who she's basically trying to, more or less, create a lasting emotional connection with. Whatever. It's not like she can help her personality. "First off, I thought it was important to reach out because allies are important."

That's a good place to start, right?

Alistair gifts her with a look that, for a moment, makes Leah wonder if she's been having a stroke and now all her words are pure gibberish. And then that thought is dashed when he sniffs and turns his nose up. "What do you need to reach out to _me_ for?"

Oh, so it's like that. Despite his grumpy nature, Leah has the absurd thought that Alistair actually has a _fun_ personality - or maybe she can just see how fun it would be to purposefully push his buttons. Fun for her, specifically.

She lifts her brows. "I can recognize my own people," she tells him.

"Your people?"

Leah grins, wide and shark-like. It's the smile she uses when she's about to make Seth's life hard just for the sake of it. "Aces, my friend." Then Leah pauses, thinking it over. "Or...aro, maybe? I don't know, you do you."

Alistair states at her with a hard look. "How do you know?"

"How can I not know?" she asks rhetorically. "We're basically the same person. Also, Bella said, sort of."

If possible, Alistair's expression gets even grumpier. "We are not the same. I'm not uncouth like you."

Leah snorts, loudly. "Oh, I'm so _sorry_, Your Highness. Do you find me rude?"

"Obviously."

"Well, you're not pocketful of sunshine, either," she tells him, amused at the way his stare turns incredibly droll.

"I don't intend to be," he says icily.

"Me either. It's overrated," Leah says. "It's also more proof we should stick together."

Now Alistair is rolling his eyes, sinking into a state of dismissiveness. "Oh, please do explain that logic."

Leah gestures broadly. "Look at our mutual friends, and then look at us," she says because she feels like this is really enough evidence to prove her point. "We're the only sane ones."

To her eyes, it looks like Alistair, in spite of himself, agrees with her. "You have a point."

Leah huffs. "Of course, I do," she says impatiently. "I always have a point. You'll learn that soon enough, buddy."

"Do not call me _buddy,_" Alistair says frostily.

"Sure thing, _pal_."

Alistair sighs long-sufferingly. He rolls his eyes skyward and gets back around to the root of their discussion. "Why me? Why date me?"

"Well," Leah says at length. "You're kind of an asshole and I'm usually an asshole, so I figure we're a pretty good match. Plus, the whole ace thing. I don't know if I'm aromantic and I'm not going to make assumptions about you, but we could at least...hang out. Or something. Figure it out. Try to, like, actively be friends, at the very least."

Alistair doesn't look very convinced. Leah switches to a different tactic. She's not particularly fond of drawing up from her emotional reservoir, but she has a vested interest in getting what she thinks she wants right now. It's with a stark feeling of vulnerability that she lays it out for him, hoping that he would understand.

Hoping that he really is the same and that Bella's hunch was right.

"Aren't you kind of terrified of being alone?" she asks, voice a tad quieter than usual. "Dying alone, I mean? I may not want my bits to come into contact with anyone else's, but…"

There is - maybe miraculously - a sheen of understanding in Alistair's cold blue eyes. "But you want to not be alone."

"You get it."

Alistair looks down and away. 'I do." He lifts a brow, dragging back the mask of his haughty exterior. "I suppose I'm also your most convenient option?"

Leah shrugs. She lowkey hopes she knows where this conversation is heading now that there is a tinge of understanding between them. "Pretty much. Am I yours?"

"Likely, yes," he replies. "You, at least, understand my reservations."

That sounds vaguely positive to her ears. "So? Are you accepting?" she asks, irreverent. "Do you want to date me?"

Alistair studies her for a moment more. "You're quite bold, aren't you? I appreciate your candor, so for that, I'll give you the respect you deserve and answer honestly."

And then Alistair, the utter asshole, pauses. It's possible he's gathering his thoughts, but Leah has an inkling that he's drawing it out on purpose as a sort of payback for being daring enough to propose the idea in the first place. She has the inkling because it's something she would do. She wasn't joking about them being similar.

Leah will never, ever admit that she waits with bated breath or that she appreciates the sort of soothing cadence of Alistair's voice. Still, just because she won't admit to either thing, doesn't mean they aren't true.

"I will not make any promises," Alistair says finally. "But I would not be...entirely opposed to setting up a time to meet and assess our compatibility."

She bites the inside of her cheek to fight back a smile at his stiff delivery. "So, you will date me," she states, seeking clarification.

Alistair grimaces. "I wouldn't put it that way, but essentially yes." He takes a deep breath, then holds his hand out in a hand-shake, like they're really making a deal. It's kind of adorable, in an uptight sort of way. "Let's date."

Leah reaches out and shakes his hand. His is broader than hers but softer. She has the strange thought that this is the first time she is actually touching someone who she could actually spend her life with, without all the weird pressures that come from dating people who aren't like she is. Who isn't like he is.

Leah grins at him, unfettered. "_L__ouis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,"_ she quotes.

Alistair's expression twists. "Who's Louis?"

Her eyes widen. "My God, you've been so deprived. I know what we're doing for our first hang out, or whatever. You need a film education."

Alistair _hmphs_ at her, but he doesn't disagree.

It's a start.

* * *

**A/N: Just nudging the plot along and tying in those futuretakes! Also, sisters of the heart are the best. I kind of adore the Bella-Leah dynamic. And now the Leah-Alistair dynamic! **

**A very important note about asexual relationships - asexual people are completely capable of having romantic relationships, as sex does not equal love. Asexuals also do not have to only date asexuals. There are in fact many asexual people who have romantic relationships with people who enjoy sex; whether or not sex is part of that relationship depends on each individual and where the asexual person falls on the scale of being willing to participate in sexual activity for the sake of pleasing their partner. This is a huge reason why sexual orientation is on a scale, because every person experiences sexual and romantic attraction differently. It's just as common for asexuals to date each other as it is for asexuals to date sexuals; it's just as common for asexuals to refrain from all sexual activity as it is for them to engage in sexual acts with their partner, including both one-sided and mutual sexual acts. It all really depends on the person. If you have further questions about asexuality and interpersonal relationships, please visit websites such as:**

**For Leah and Alistair, it's safe to assume that neither of them are interested in sex, full stop. Whether they will have an emotionally romantic relationship or whether it will be a very close friendship based on platonic love is still up in the air. I'm probably not going to give a hardline answer on this, so just choose your own ending on that score.**

We are now 19 days out from the election, here. If you don't have a voting plan yet, make one; if you want to vote, take advantage of early voting or get your ballot directly to a ballot drop-box. I know this may be difficult in some states, so think about helping your neighbors or taking ballots to the drop-box in bundles if your state is one where the drop-boxes have been limited. If you're still waiting on your mail-in ballot, give your state election board a call ASAP to see what's going on and when you can expect one. And again, be sure to follow the ballot directions _exactly_; ballot goes into the secrecy envelope, the secrecy envelope goes into the mailing envelope, and your signature, date, and witness if necessary goes on the mailing envelope.

Don't even ask me about the other things. I'm too angry to talk about it. But, you know by now what my thoughts are, right? The outrage should go unsaid at this point.

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay inside. You'll be seeing virus cases going up now that people are staying inside more, but if you stay vigilant by limiting your public exposure, wearing your mask, and washing your hands, you should be able to stay safe and healthy. Listen to the science. We're going to get through this. I know it doesn't _feel _like we're going to get through this, but we will. Humans are exceptionally resilient. **

**~Rae**


	69. chapter 28

**[chapter_28]**

Bella is thrilled with her sister's success. Watching Leah grow up, being there beside her every step of the way, she knows that Leah's success is something hard-won - her sister continues to beat the odds out of sheer talent and willfulness, and Bella can only hope to emulate that to some small degree. It has been an unfortunate piece of knowledge to possess, knowing that Indigenous people have to work twice as hard to make it into the same circles Bella can waltz through. Out of all their peers in La Push, it has only been Leah, Jake's older sisters, and a handful of others that have gotten out to go to college. She thinks Seth will follow his sister's path, but she isn't so sure about the others. She hopes their generation will be the one to break the cycle.

Leah, in any case, is living proof that it can be done. She isn't the very first Native American to file into the ranks of filmmakers and world-shakers, but she's going to be one of a very, very small group. Bella knows that her sister lives with that understanding, that weight on her back, every day. It's a pressure she can't relate to, so Bella does all she can to support Leah, when and where she is able.

It's immensely gratifying that Leah is now reaping the rewards of all her hard work. Bella knows Leah is worried about submitting her application for her MFA - about getting in - but Bella doesn't see a cause for concern. What film school in the country is going to turn down someone who _just_ won a huge documentary contest _and_ had their work aired nationally on PBS? Leah's anxiety both is and isn't understandable.

This is part of the reason why, when Bella learns of what her sister has done in wrangling Alistair into agreeing to, more or less, platonically date, she can't help but be relieved. Leah needs people like other people need air. Leah latches onto people and has an unwavering sort of loyalty, but she needs that devotion to be reciprocal - and as much as Leah might not want to admit it, Bella knows that Leah has a pressing need for companionship. She's someone who doesn't do well being alone. While Bella could quite happily close herself into her own space for weeks on end, Leah has never done well with boundaries, with being trapped into one place; where Bella is neutrally social, Leah needs a social life.

Bella thinks Alistair could fill a role in Leah's life. While Alistair is reticent and biting and doesn't appear social in the least, he's shown that he's amenable to going along for the ride. Alistair's social inclination is closer to Bella's, but since Leah is used to dealing with that, maybe the match will be well-made.

Time will only tell, there.

Time will only tell in other places, too. With the quarter nearly halfway through, midterms are looming only a couple of weeks away, and Bella is starting to feel the pressure of her course load and the work she gets done for Midnight Sun. She hadn't been kidding when she told Janeway about not really having the time for a guild, anyway. As nice as it had been to be part of a community of gamers all working toward the same goal, it had also been another commitment of Bella's time that she doesn't really have to spare. It's hard enough to keep up with her Swanning streams and right now, the only gaming she's doing is squeezed into the time she allots for decompressing, a stress relief shuttled between the occasional Netflix binge-watch with the girls and the at-home dates Masen keeps regular.

In fact, Bella's daily schedule is so jam-packed with her course work and studying for her midterms, and staying on top of the projects she is completing for the DOW2 demo due in December, that it doesn't even occur to her to mention her problems with the guild until almost the end of October, only a few days before Halloween.

She and Masen have just finished watching _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ in the spirit of the season, cuddled together under a thick weighted blanket with a silky-soft bamboo cover. With Halloween falling on a Saturday this year and various plans being pitched between their friend groups about what they should do this year, Bella and Masen had taken the time to celebrate in their own way - which is to say that, while their friends seem hell-bent on participating in as many Halloween party antics as possible, Bella and Masen are homebodies through-and-through and would have preferred to have a Halloween movie marathon, instead. They still might, if they can duck out of the Halloween shenanigans early. It isn't entirely off the table.

With the movie credits still running in the background, they exchange soft words and commentary about the week thus-far. Masen is repeatedly slotting their hands together in various configurations, making her giggle when his thumb brushes against the center of her palm and finds an unexpected tickle spot. The mood is so light and she feels so safe, warm, and comforted in the catch of his arms, her chin resting on his chest as she looks up at him.

Bella makes a passing mention about how much she wishes she had more time for gaming, and Masen hums his agreement. He's been busy, too.

"I'm kind of glad that I don't have the guild, though. If I'm this busy now, I can't imagine how busy I would be if I had guild meetings and dungeons on top of it," she muses. "People keep messaging me about it, trying to get me to come back, but I don't really have anything to say about it."

"Messages?"

"A few," she confirms"Actually, I got a few surprising ones. Like, Relentless sent me a message, too."

Beneath her, Masen stills. "Relentless sent a message?" he asks, tone smooth and soft.

Bella nods her head against his chest and frowns up at him. "Yeah, and it was kind of weird, too. It was almost an apology, but it felt - I don't know, _off_ to me. I didn't reply."

Masen hums, weaving their fingers together with a decisive pressure, his brow knit in concentration. She wonders at what is going through his head and decides, ultimately, that if he wants to tell her, he will.

It's not like Masen is going to go making any trouble, after all. It's not his style.

* * *

Masen

I need you to do some research

K.O.

On?

Masen

DOW handle Relentless

K.O.

On it boss

Masen

(Read at 10:12 PM)

.

.

.

K.O.

I have information

Masen

Say more

K.O.

The handle Relentless is owned by

James Denali

As in Denali Corps

Masen

Is that so

K.O.

Yes.

Masen

What else

K.O.

According to emails on the

Denali server James Denali has

recently been assigned to the

Volturi Demo on Denali's side

Masen

I see

Is there more?

K.O.

His search history for the past

week has included a deep dive

on Bella Swan

Masen

Of course he has

What does he know

K.O.

Enough

Masen

Continue

K.O.

He doesn't seem to be aware

of your connection to Bella

He doesn't know Master Culler is you

But he is aware that you are

our CEO and that we're competing

for the same contract

Masen

Proof?

K.O.

(Attached files)

Internet cache and stored texts

on his Apple devices

Masen

I see

Good work

K.O.

Orders?

Masen

Sit on it for now

K.O.

Got it

Masen

(Read at 6:41 AM)

* * *

The last time Masen celebrated Halloween in a costume must have been when he was ten or eleven. He has a vivid memory of Carlisle taking him around their neighborhood and of being cold. He'd gone as Batman. There were many king-sized candy bars that year. But that had been the last time - by twelve, he was adamant that he was too old and had refused all cajoling. His parents had accepted it, because they were like that.

The next time Masen had been in a costume at all had been Comic-Con when he was 19 and he went to San Diego as Tony Stark, his only Iron Man concession being a metallic red-and-gold glove modeled after repulsors. Peter had made the joke that _of course_ Masen would choose Tony Stark - they both have the same tin-pot hearts. Masen hadn't minded the comparison.

He had, however, thought it would be the last time he willingly dressed in any sort of costume. But Bella has changed him in more ways than he can describe, so when the idea came up to do a Halloween-themed pub crawl on Saturday night, Masen had quietly resigned himself to the gentle enthusiasm in her green eyes. She wanted to spend the night out with her friends, and so while Bella didn't intend to drink, she would be more than happy to the designated sober person to guide the group safely around. Masen would join her, because he craves any amount of time he can get with her - and because he feels like he may be coveting her attention too much.

They can hang out with their friends, too. They can even do it in costume.

The entire night out is somewhat last minute, which means most of them have spent the week cobbling together the easiest costumes they can. Bella's friend Alice had volunteered to run through all of the local costume shops to get what she could, which is how Masen ends up with an inky black wig and a floor-length black cape with a black-feathered neckline. He's going as Howl, so the rest of his costume is a simple enough combination of black jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt.

Bella is going as Sophie. She's easy to spot in the bar when he arrives, almost half an hour later than everyone else due to certain _issues_ he's been dealing with for the Volturi demo and the strange politicking that is involved. He can see her laughing at something her friend Rose is saying and he stops for a minute, watching her slender back and the elegant line of her neck. Even dressed in a white braided wig and a simple blue long-sleeved dress, he thinks she's probably the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

It rankles him, deeply, that there is someone out there who seeks to possess her for no other reason than adding her to a trophy collection. James Denali - Masen loathes men like him, who think they should get what they want because they have power and the will to abuse it. He'd been so unsettled by the news that Relentless had messaged his Bella after that guild fiasco that he'd asked K.O to look into it, and what K.O. had been able to dig up overnight had not been flattering. James Denali has designs on Bella - and Masen has no intention of letting him get his way. The best way to handle the situation hasn't been revealed, but Masen can be patient. The opportunity would come. Until then, he'll be more vigilant about Bella's online safety. He's already written a few simple blockers to make it more difficult for James Denali to Google her, but all James needs to do is use someone else's devices to get past the block. It's a temporary solution, though, and Masen will have to make peace with it.

Masen wades through the crowded bar, catches Bella's eye from across the room, and tries not to let his internal delight be so obvious. But he loves her and he loves the way she looks at him. There aren't words to describe it, or how it feels. Even surrounded by all of their mutual friends and acquaintances, it feels like she has eyes only for him.

Bella reaches for his arm when he draws near enough, smiling up at him with simple, bright happiness. "Hi, Howl," she says.

"Sophie," he murmurs, tucking a wisp of the white wig behind her ear. "Sorry, I'm late."

"You haven't missed anything," she tells him with a reassuring pat to the center of his chest. She then turns her head and shoots a look at her sister. "We were just talking about how weird it is to see Leah without her camera."

Leah appears to be dressed as Lily Munster, with a black and white wig and a matching satin dress, which matches Alistair's Herman Munster costume, complete with pale blue face paint. "I want to be buzzed tonight," Leah explains with the sort of exasperation that comes from repeating oneself. "I can't do that with my camera. It's expensive. What if I drop it?"

Bella smiles, sly. "Then Alistair will just buy you a new one, right?"

Alistair gives Bella a very droll look.

Leah sighs. "See? I told you."

Bella laughs.

"That's okay," Peter cuts in. "It's even a good thing. I wanted to go as a Sexy Panda, but part of the costume has back-ordered. I'll just do it next year, and then you can bring your camera and capture me in all my glory. Right, babe?"

K.O., who is the only one actually sitting at the small table their group has secured, makes a noise of agreement. He's wearing a white chef's hat and what appears to be a genuine chef's jacket. Masen narrows his eyes slightly, trying to connect K.O.'s costume to Peter, who is wearing a t-shirt with a white chicken on it, white jeans, and a hat that looks like a chicken's face.

Bella, seeming to sense his confusion, leans up on her tip-toes, bringing her mouth to his ear. "They're supposed to be like those Muppets. Chef and his chicken, you know?"

Masen doesn't know. He didn't watch the Muppets growing up. He still hums, though, because while he doesn't understand the Muppet reference, the innuendo of Peter being K.O.'s chicken is all too clear.

"What on earth is a Sexy Panda?" Emmett asks around a pint of beer. He's wearing some kind of tunic and has an abacus in his hand, which isn't too much of a costume unless one considers how much Emmett worships Pythagoras.

"A panda that's sexy, obviously," Peter tells him.

"I'm too British for this nonsense," Alistair mutters.

"Wait, hold on," Emmett says, scratching his head. "If you nixed the panda costume because you didn't have a part, then did you seriously have this chicken stuff lying around?"

The entire group looks at Peter for an explanation. It's a good question.

Peter wags his brows. "Bro. Do you really want to know?"

Collectively, the entire group grimaces. Emmett speaks for them once again. "On second thought, no. Let me live in ignorance."

Bella presses her lips together and looks at Masen with poorly-concealed amusement when Emmett chugs the rest of his beer. Masen kisses her forehead, mostly to hide his own amusement.

"I don't understand," says a new-comer attached to Alice's hip. He's tall and younger than the rest of them with blond hair, glasses, and an outstanding cowboy get-up that looks, to Masen's untrained eye, authentic.

Rose snorts, flipping her dark, curly-haired wig over her shoulder. "Ali, explain to your main what an innuendo is."

Alice, who wears a frilly dress that belongs perhaps on the set of _Gone with the Wind_, giggles and then breathlessly explains to the newcomer what Peter meant.

Masen watches the blond boy's cheeks flush in embarrassment, then ducks his lips to Bella's ear. "Who is he?"

"Oh," she says, turning until their noses are almost touching. "That's Jasper, Alice's boyfriend."

"I see." He pauses. "Who is Rose supposed to be?"

"Ada Lovelace," Bella says loftily.

Well, Masen considers. That would explain the lace and the corset.

"I was going to be Lovelace, but I chickened out when I saw the dress," Bella confesses.

Masen, who has seen Bella be remarkably and endearingly clumsy, privately thinks this was probably a good idea. Masen doesn't doubt that Rose's outfit is significantly less voluminous than it would be if it was historically accurate, but it's still a lot of fabric to navigate. He's also quietly relieved that Bella is modestly covered up. He's self-aware enough to know it would rankle to see others looking at Bella the way they are looking at Rose and the low-dipping neckline of her dress.

"You look lovely like this," he says instead.

"Thank you," she blushes, looking down bashfully.

Eventually, the chatting leads them to another round of drinks. Masen buys for the group, mostly because he intends to steal Bella away early. A busy waitress brings their tray to the table and Leah stands up, clearing her throat while holding a glass high in the air. Masen and Bella each raise a glass of water, joining in the toast.

"A toast to Alice," Leah declares, grinning when Alice ducks her head shyly. "Who did so much work to make sure none of us look like the poor college students we actually are!"

"Hear, hear!"

Glasses clink together merrily, the sound loss in the general chaos of the crowded bar. Masen lets it all wash over him, content to just stand at Bella's side as her more open personality displays itself. Before her, Masen would have never willingly joined in so many group excursions, but they seem to be moderately important to her and he is willing to spend time with her in any way he can - even like this, with the group stumbling to another bar, this one hosting a Halloween-themed karaoke contest that Alice and Peter end up joining, much to the shared despair of the rest of the group. It's entertaining enough that, for the first time in weeks, Masen finds that his mind is willingly on something other than work, the stress rolling off his shoulders. By the time they get to the third bar, half of their friends more than a little tipsy, Masen feels some strange combination of recharged and drained. The stress is melting away, but the strain of sustained social interaction is clawing at him.

Fortunately, Bella seems to feel the same way. She pulls her sister aside after only ten minutes in the third bar and tells Leah that she and Masen would be leaving. Leah and the rest of the group wave them off, and Bella and Masen escape to the chill in the air.

It's cold enough that Bella's breath can be seen every time she exhales. Seeing that her dress is thin and clearly not adequate for the weather, Masen unties the cape from his neck and drapes it over her shoulders. Bella smiles up at him and reaches for his hand.

Her hands are small, slender, long-fingered. They always fit so perfectly in his own.

"Where should we go? Home?"

Masen lifts a brow. Where is _home_ to her? Her dorm or his loft?

Bella's cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink. "I mean, your home," she clarifies. "They probably won't be expecting me back tonight, and I really don't want to deal with Rose's hangover in the morning…"

"Mm. Stay with me," he agrees. Masen orients himself on the street, taking in the brisk air and the moon rising from between squat buildings. He wonders if he should call for an Uber, or if they should BART at least some of the way.

Bella ends up deciding for them. "Can we walk for a bit?"

"You aren't too cold?"

"I'm fine," she insists. "A few blocks, at least, and then we'll catch one of the late-running buses."

Their stroll takes them down a sidewalk interspersed with more people their age in outrageous costumes. They make a quiet game of trying to guess costumes, and when they run across one that neither of them can place, Masen pulls out his phone to Google for the answer. Bella, entertainingly, gets competitive very quickly, insisting on keeping a tally of who makes the right guesses and arguing with zeal that there is a difference between a witch and a Wiccan.

"I'm telling you, you're wrong," she says, now scrolling through her collection of Google images to prove him wrong. "Look, see. Witches clearly have more of a goth vibe, while Wiccans are more colorful. That girl back there was wearing neon gauze and a pointed hat. She was definitely dressed as a Wiccan."

"Semantics."

"No, it's not semantics," she laughs. "There's a clear difference!"

"If you say so," he concedes. By now, the block has drifted from small businesses to residential areas, so there's both fewer people and fewer lights. He thinks it's about time to start looking for a BART stop so they can get home. Bella's teeth have been chattering intermittently for the last few minutes. He sees one stop across the street and makes to cross with her, but he finds that Bella has stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "Bella?"

"Do you hear that?" she asks, cocking her head to the side.

All Masen hears is the distant noise of music and people a block or so away, so he shakes his head.

Bella frowns, then turns, squinting into the space between two neighboring apartment buildings. "I think it's coming from over there," she says. She doesn't hesitate before she ventures away, following whatever sound had snagged her attention, and Masen follows warily. He doesn't dream of stopping her, but he is more cautious where she is not, looking around them to make sure it's safe while she explores ahead.

Bella's search takes them halfway down that narrow alleyway before she stops on a dime with a gasp, and then says, "Oh no…"

Masen closes in behind her, peering over her shoulder at whatever has caught her attention. _Oh no_, indeed.

There in the alleyway is an abandoned cardboard box, dirty and torn, with scrawling Sharpie written over the side: TAKE ME HOME. Now that he's closer, he can hear the plaintive mewling of the animal inside. He's amazed Bella had been able to hear it so well.

Bella moves to kneel in front of the box, leaning over to have a closer look inside. She makes a helpless sound, reaching a hand inside to stroke down the back of a slender, clearly malnourished kitten. It's too dark to get an idea of the cat's coloring, but Masen can easily see the way the kitten leans up into the warmth of Bella's hand, eager for affection. He can also easily see how swift his girlfriend attaches herself to the animal.

Bella looks up at him, biting her lip. "We should take it somewhere. A vet's office, maybe," she suggests shyly.

Masen puts his hands in his pockets. "Vets are probably closed. It's late."

"Oh," she says, crestfallen. She pats at the kitten more, her brow furrowed.

Masen restrains the upward tick of his mouth. She's cute.

"We can take it back to the loft for now," he offers, and even as he says it, he knows full well that the _for now_ is purely fictional. Bella is already attached to the kitten and since dorms don't allow for pets, the only logical place for her to home the kitten is at Masen's place.

He doesn't have a problem with it. If the kitten is there, then Bella will have more incentive to see him during the week. His offer is purely selfish.

The elated smile she gives him more than makes up for the future headache of having to housetrain a small kitten and the medical bills the animal will rack up to get it into healthy condition. Those are minor inconveniences compared to the way Bella looks at him as she cradles the kitten carefully in the crook of her arms, to the way she leans herself into his side while they wait for an Uber, to the way she so serenely lets him talk the Uber driver into letting them take the kitten into the car.

By the time they get back to the loft, Bella has already made a plan on how to get the kitten the care it needs. She's booked an appointment for a local vet the next morning, has a list of basic cat supplies waiting in an Amazon cart and is fully prepared to sacrifice one of Masen's bath towels to cleaning the kitten up. The kitten is small enough that it probably can't do anything other than drink milk, so while Bella is sudsing the kitten up with his shampoo, Masen runs down to the corner store for a half-gallon of full-fat milk. When he gets back, he finds Bella sitting on the floor in the living room, cooing at the kitten as she buffs the water off its fur.

Masen bypasses them, lingering only for a moment to memorize the maternal expression on Bella's face, and goes directly to the kitchen to heat up a small bowl of milk, which he then takes to the living room. He places the bowl down first, then sits down next to Bella, who releases the kitten from the towel.

They stare at the kitten expectantly.

The kitten mews at them.

"Shouldn't he be drinking it by now?" Bella asks a minute later when the kitten has decided to lay down on the towel and ignore the milk.

"He?"

Bella nods. "Definitely a boy," she confirms.

"Maybe he doesn't know how," Masen suggests. A bowl of milk certainly isn't how kittens usually feed.

"Ah," Bella says in realization, and then spends the next five minutes coaxing the kitten to the bowl by dipping her finger in the milk and letting the kitten lick the milk from her finger.

Masen stays silent throughout this time, satisfied to just watch. He can't help it if his mind takes the inevitable turn to the future, imagining this patience from Bella directed at another small creature - but that would be several years from now. Several years. Masen is willing to share her with some of the world, with their friends, and with this kitten, but he is selfish enough to not want to divide her attention more than that. Not yet.

But one day, maybe. It would be nice. A family of his own. He can't imagine it happening with anyone _but_ her.

That night, after they have successfully led the kitten to eat and put together a makeshift litter box out of one of his shoe boxes, Bella and Masen go to sleep with the kitten purring happily between them.

Bella curls around the kitten until her head is resting on Masen's shoulder. "Thank you," she says quietly.

Masen presses a soft kiss to her forehead. "Of course," he returns, and wonders if she understands that there was never any question, never any hesitation at all from his end. Of course, he would keep the kitten she found and fell in love with so quickly. It would be absurd to think otherwise.

He would do anything for her. Anything. Including gather intelligence he might need to keep her safe from would-bes who want nothing more than to possess her as if she were a trophy.

If James Denali thinks it will be easy to get to Bella, he has another thing coming.

* * *

Bella Swan **ʘthelittlecygnet**

Say hello to Atari!

(Picture Attachment: A small kitten with pale blue eyes and mostly white fur, only the tops of its ears, its toes, and the tip of its tail dusted with a soft grey. Its ears are standing straight up, head tilted as it looks up at Masen Cullen, who is holding the kitten away from his body with both hands, a deadpan expression on his face.)

L Clearwater **ʘClearlyFilmingThis**

Hold up what

Peter C. **ʘpeteypete**

Are we allowed cats in the building?

Em for MC **ʘmathmagician**

**ʘpeteypete **We own the building so...yes?

Seth Clearwater **ʘchangethisquil**

Hey! Pistachio has a cousin now!

* * *

**A/N: Update 1 of 2! **

**So, I picked exactly zero of these costumes - you can thank the lovelies over on Facebook for heeding the call and giving these recommendations. I wanted to use them all, but I ended up going with the ones that were most realistically possible, i.e., the simple ones. I think most of them are self-explanatory, but I feel I should talk about Ada Lovelace. Ada Lovelace was the daughter of Lord Byron (the poet) and a Countess in her own right, but she's most well-known for being a mathematician who wrote the first algorithm for a "computing machine" in the 1800s, making her the very first computer programmer _ever_ when computers weren't even a thing. A lot of people agree that Lovelace had the first theoretical concept of what computers would become. Of course, she isn't widely recognized because she's a woman - but that's history for you. **

**Yes, they _totally_ named the kitten Atari, because they're both huge, huge nerds. In other news, Atari is releasing a console this year to explicitly compete against Nintendo and PlayStation, so it might be work checking out? It looks pretty dope. **

American readers, it's time to buckle in. The votes counts aren't complete until the last vote is officially counted, which means we're not likely to know the outcome of this election on election night - I would estimate we'll know, at the very latest, by Thanksgiving. Hold on tight. Don't be distracted. Don't panic - not yet.

Also, with the Supreme Court looking like it is, now is the time to figure out health insurance alternatives if you need them, just to be prepared. It may also interest you to learn that The Satanic Temple has successfully made the right to get an abortion protected by religion through a series of legal loopholes that essentially take advantage of the Hobby Lobby precedent set by Neil Gorsuch before he was a Justice - because The Satanic Temple has something they call a "Satanic Abortion Ritual", and because organizations get to have more protections than individuals for certain healthcare liberties, women can now use a few documents to ensure their right to make a choice about their body and their healthcare. And while women are certainly entitled to take legal action if a clinic denies them the right to an abortion if the woman claims religious liberty as a member of The Satanic Temple, it's important to note that this protection operates under the assumption that Roe v. Wade is upheld, and under the assumption that your state has abortion clinics. However, because The Satanic Temple is _literally_ a federally-recognized religious institution, putting them on the same par as other churches, there is legal protection there. This didn't get a lot of news coverage when it happened in August, but it's important to know about it now, just in case. You can, of course, read more about it at The Satanic Temple (and learn more about the not-Satan-worshipping Satanists and their absolutely metal anarchist approach to securing social liberties through religious protection loopholes). Information is only a Google search away.

(As a point of note, in case anyone cares, I'm an agnostic atheist. I just like knowing things.)

**As always, be honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay inside, stay up on the science. And Happy Halloween!**

**~Rae**


	70. the one time i stood in for swan

**[YouTube]**

The One Time I Stood In For Swan (feat. Atari and BIL)  
**ClarityIsClear  
**652k Views/ Posted 4 years from now

(The first few seconds of the video is shaky footage, a blur of colors largely punctuated by the sounds of low mumbling and Leah Clearwater's voice clearly saying, "God, just give me a minute so I can set this up. How are you so impatient? You're like a robot, you barely even talk! Robots are supposed to be patient."

There's a muffled response and then an aggravated sound from Leah right before her face pops up in front of the camera. She's currently walking backward, narrowly avoiding tripping over the sidewalk as she hurries to keep pace with the person she is walking beside. Viewers haven't seen him often, but the person is Masen Cullen, a seldom-seen figure in Leah's YouTube updates, one that is often both intriguing and intimidating through the lens of the camera.

Leah looks a little harried but more amused than anything. "Hey, viewers! As you can see, I'm here with Bella's person," she says, gesturing at Masen. "He walks very fast, just so you know, and he refuses to slow down."

"Emergency," comes Masen's low voice.

Leah rolls her eyes. "The cat is going to be fine. It's just a little constipation."

From what viewers can see, Masen Cullen doesn't even grace Leah's commentary with any amount of recognition. He does, however, look down at his arms, in which he is very carefully cradling a mass of white fur. Leah turns the camera around so the cat is clearly visible, zooming in on its little face.

"Anyway, viewers, I'm here with Masen to take this little guy to the vet," Leah continues from behind the camera. "He's got some tummy troubles, like when Al eats too much yogurt," she adds fondly. "I'm here today because Bella got caught up at work, so she sent me as her stand-in. I couldn't pass up the opportunity with my brother in law. Also, Bella made me, because she's mean."

"Not mean," Masen mumbles.

Leah rolls her eyes.

The view shifts again to capture the image of a veterinary office, a mixture of brick and glass that already has plenty of animals and owners inside the waiting room. Leah stays quiet as they enter the office and as Masen signs in, but as soon as those tasks are done, Leah helps herself to the abundant stimuli of the office. She spends several minutes filming various animals - after getting permission from owners - and wanders around the entire length of the waiting room. Any time the camera passes over Masen and the cat, he can be seen stroking the cat between the ears, expression blank but intent. The cat is asleep in his lap.

"Intense guy," Leah mutters, seemingly to herself. She wanders over to the empty chair beside Masen and sits down with a huff. "Hey, how long are we going to wait?" she asks, the camera view capturing the waiting room from a new angle.

"Until our appointment," Masen answers after a moment.

"Okay, smart ass," Leah laughs.

The camera zooms back in on the now-slumbering cat and the sound of the video fades out to a Braham's lullaby. The bottom of the video then displays a single sentence: _We waited for another 20 minutes and it was very, very boring. _

The next image on the screen is a panning side-view of the inside of a veterinary office. The cat is now sitting on a large chrome table while a white-coated vet pats it down, examining it intently. Almost as intent is Masen Cullen, who stares at the process with his arms crossed. It isn't clear to viewers whether he blinks or not.

The vet stands up straight, idly petting the cat's head. "Well," he says with a gusty sigh and a wry smile. "The good news is that this little fella here -"

"Atari," Masen cuts in, reaching down to heft the cat into his arms again.

The vet smiles indulgently. "Right, Atari. The good news is that Atari is going to be okay. The food he's eating is a little hard for him to digest, so you'll need to change brands for one with higher fiber content. You can also add some canned pumpkin to his food, for now, to get things going."

Masen nods gravely. Atari nips at his chin.

"You and your wife don't need to worry, Mr. Cullen-"

"Oh, hell no!" Leah says loudly from behind the camera. "Not his wife! Definitely not his wife. I'd literally rather die. No, I'm his _sister in law_."

Masen says nothing, but he does blink down at Atari. Atari mews in his face.

The vet falters but recovers quickly enough. "Uh, well, okay then. As I was saying, Mr. Cullen, there's no need to worry. It's a fairly common problem for some cats, but just as easily fixed. If the pumpkin or switching food doesn't work, bring him back and we'll give him a scan to see what's going on, okay?"

Masen nods, and the vet sends them on their way. The camera captures a few parting shots of the various animals in the waiting room as they leave.

"I wouldn't marry you, either," Masen announces after they exit the veterinary clinic.

Leah bursts out into loud, speaker-crackling laughter. "Oh, my God!" she barely manages, laughing herself breathless while Masen continues on, taking a one-track path to a silver car in the parking lot. "Hey, brother!" she yells out behind him, rushing to catch up with the camera bouncing up and down. "You have to give me some kind of warning before you decide to make a joke! I almost died from laughing!"

"Mm."

Leah laughs more, and the video ends with a closing still-picture of Atari baring his teeth at the camera. Beneath the picture is more text: _The pumpkin worked. Atari is a happy boy again._)

**Comments**

aretoodeeyou  
Bella's husband is a Good Cat Dad

Doink  
The vet's face at 4:55 tho lmao he was like, oh fuuuuuck alright alright lol

Thelittlecygnet  
Lee Lee, I told you he was funny!

ClarityIsClear  
Yeah but I thought you were just being nice because you're married?

**View More Comments**

* * *

**A/N: Update 2 of 2! If you Google "goth bunny dad meme", Google Images will pull up a tumblr post that 100% inspired this chapter. So funny, so heartwarming. Also, isn't it nice when in-laws get along?**

Speaking of in-laws - if you are LGBTQ or you know someone in the community who has been married since the right to marriage was granted, then you (or your people) need to get all of your documents in order. File to get a CIVIL UNION (your local county clerk will have this) and get it processed ASAP; file for power of attorney for medical emergencies; explicitly put each other in your wills; join your bank accounts; be co-signers on mortgages and leases; the whole works. If you have legal parts of your marriage that you want to keep protected, make sure to nail those things down. The right to marriage isn't a guarantee right now, but the law can be on your side if you get all of your documents together NOW. Time is of the essence.

**Drink water, peeps. **

**~Rae**

**Sorry about the tech issues, guys! Everything should be good now!**


	71. chapter 29

**[chapter_29]**

Bella has been asked to meet people she knows online this year more than she has in her entire life. First with Relentless, where she can't help but feel that she's dodged a bullet, and then with Masen, which turned out to be the very best thing she has ever done. Now it seems like Janeway feels that it's her turn to ask for a real-life, in-person meet up.

**《 Janeway:** Let's have coffee

**《 Janeway: **There's some things we need to talk about

Bella frowns at her laptop screen, chewing at her lip. Janeway sounds serious, which means what she wants to say is probably serious, too. Right? Only, she and Janeway have never, not even once, talked about meeting up. They are online friends and have been for the last 3 years. It wasn't ever necessary to meet up - but something has changed that.

Bella's gut tells her to trust her friend, and her gut hasn't served her wrong before. Whatever it is Janeway needs to tell her, it must be important. It must be.

**》Swansong:** Sure

**《 Janeway: **When and where?

**》Swansong: **I'm near Stanford

**《 Janeway:** That works perfectly

**《 Janeway: **I'm in Palo Alto this week

**《 Janeway:** Any good coffee shops around?

The only coffee shop Bella has ever gone to with any sort of regularity is the one where she first met Masen. She doesn't get the feeling that the quality of the coffee matters, even though she knows for a fact the Coffee Circuit makes exceptionally good coffee. It's the one she tells Janeway to meet her at, anyway. Bella might as well be on familiar territory, just in case Janeway ends up being a 40-year-old man, or something. It happens.

**《 Janeway:** Perfect

**《 Janeway:** I'll see you Wednesday afternoon? At 3?

**》Swansong:** That's fine for me

**》Swansong:** How will I know it's you?

**《 Janeway:** lol you'll know

Bella isn't sure about _that_, because it must be a rare thing for a person's imagination to match up to reality. When she thought she was meeting Master Culler, she had expected someone not quite the opposite of Masen, but not someone who could withstand Masen's ideal, either. She doubts Janeway will be as she pictures, either.

**》Swansong: **How about this?

**》Swansong: **I'll wear green.

**《 Janeway:** You take the fun out of everything

**《 Janeway: **But fine

**《 Janeway: **I'll wear green too

**《 Janeway: **See you then

**》Swansong: **Yeah, see you

Bella chews on her bottom lip for a while after the private chat window disappears, trying to figure out what Janeway finds so important that it warrants a face-to-face meeting. If it were gossip, Janeway wouldn't hesitate to spill the beans, so surely it isn't _that_. But then, what could it be?

She closes down her computer with a deep sigh. The days of November are already trickling by, she has midterms in less than two weeks, and she's having trouble animating a previously drafted design that she's going to have to ask Alistair for help with. There's a lot to do and a lot to think about that's probably more important than whatever has nipped at Janeway. She'll find out about it soon enough.

For now, Bella goes to wash her face and comb her hair, twisting it into a simple plait before cozying into her winter-heavy duvet and closing her eyes. Because she has been spoiled by recent sleepovers, she wishes that she was cuddling into Masen's warm arms or that the weight of Atari was pressing against her chest. As it is, she only has her pillow in bed, which she hugs to her chest with a sullen pout. This will have to do for now.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Paparazzi  
Look at this sad sack  
_(Picture Attachment: Bella sleeping in her bed, _  
_curled around a pillow, with her lower lip poked out)_  
You can tell she wants to be holding something else

Short Cake  
I think it's sweet!

Thorny  
That's because you still sleep with a bear

Short Cake  
He's not a bear  
He's Mister Cuddles and he deserves your respect

Paparazzi  
Yeah  
At least she only sleeps with the bear  
And not any savory dick that comes along

Thorny  
First, rude  
Are you on my side of mocking others or not?  
Second, savory dick?

Paparazzi  
Is that not how you heteros feel about it?

Thorny  
Good God it's too early in the morning for this

Sleep Talker  
Why are you blowing up the group chat  
What's that  
LEAH

Paparazzi  
Good morning loser!

Sleep Talker  
Oh I'm the loser  
I see  
I guess we all just forgot that  
someone here slept with her  
baby blanket until she was fifteen

Short Cake  
Oooooohhhhhhhhh

Thorny  
Shots fired

Paparazzi  
You said you would never talk about that!

Sleep Talker  
That was before you mocked my pillow cuddling  
All bets are off, sis

Paparazzi  
Bitch  
You've gotten so mean since Masen  
I like it  
I'm so proud

Thorny  
Your sisterhood dynamic never fails to entertain me  
But I do have class  
So was there a point to any of this or can I go

Paparazzi  
I release you

Thorny  
(thumbs up emoji)

Short Cake  
Oh Bella!  
While you're here!  
I need to ask you a thing

Sleep Talker  
Shoot

Short Cake  
Are you planning on buying a cat bed?  
Because I have an old assignment I'm willing to sacrifice  
I want to experiment with pillows

Sleep Talker  
I will not argue if you want to save me money

Short Cake  
Yes! Thank you!

Sleep Talker  
Masen will want to pay you

Short Cake  
He doesn't have to! I'm volunteering!

Sleep Talker  
Sure, but he's good like that

Paparazzi  
I love how certain you are  
Are you just volunteering his money?  
Did he give you his wallet?

Sleep Talker  
:P  
I just know him! He doesn't like to owe people

Short Cake  
I'm not people! I'm Alice!

Sleep Talker  
And you should be compensated for your work, Ali  
Even your experimental work  
We'll just pay you for the fluffy bits of the cat bed

Paparazzi  
We

Sleep Talker  
Are we having a problem, Lee Lee?  
Are you not also part of a we?

Paparazzi  
Oh, I'm part of several wes  
But my wes aren't like your we  
Except for my new we

Short Cake  
Okay well  
I'm confused  
And I have class too!  
Later!

Sleep Talker  
Yeah, I have to bounce too!  
I'm going to be late

Paparazzi  
Hey, be careful today  
I know this is your gaming friend, but people are weird  
Stay in public places

Sleep Talker  
I love you too

Paparazzi  
UGH, feelings!  
How do I delete them?

Sleep Talker  
Lol

* * *

Because Bella is habitually punctual, she is the first to arrive at the Coffee Circuit on the day she is supposed to meet Janeway. She buys a pumpkin spice latte and a bear claw, seats herself at a table tucked beneath a nook of books and potted succulents, and scrolls through her phone, telling her sister and Masen that she's waiting for Janeway now since they both requested to be kept in the loop. It's sweet. She wastes a few minutes looping through the trending hashtags on Twitter, waiting for her drink to cool enough to not scald her mouth and winds up getting sucked into the latest fandom meltdown, which is always entertaining. This is why she doesn't realize Janeway has arrived until someone sits down at her table, clunking down a coffee cup the size of a soup bowl onto the tabletop.

Bella startles and blinks at the girl dressed head-to-toe in olive green - from her bellbottom velvet jumpsuit to her stylish leather duster, to the scrunchie holding her sleek platinum hair away from her face in a high tail, to the mule shoes on her feet. Bella blinks again and thinks that, if Alice were here, she would be gushing over how effortlessly this girl is pulling off something that shouldn't work so well. The girl is around Bella's age, maybe a year younger or older, and has pleasant elfin features, aside from sharp, dark eyes that light on Bella with a mischievous spark.

"Swansong, right?" the girl says, smiling faintly. She takes a cursory look around the coffee shop, then says, "You must be Swansong since you're the only one here wearing green like me. Although, I think I win this time."

Just as promised, Bella _is_ wearing green - but her peacoat seems overly simple in comparison to this clearly expensive get up her gaming friend is wearing. Bella hasn't spent a lot of time thinking about how Janeway would look in real life, but this girl in designer clothes and a row of mixed-metallic studs crawling up her ear isn't it. It's somehow fitting, though. This is all very _Janeway_, right down to the smart ass greeting.

"Bella is fine," she says after a beat. "Bella Swan."

Janeway laughs shortly. "You did the same thing I did, playing off your name. Mine's Jane," she says.

"Just Jane?"

Jane shrugs, a smirk playing at her lips. "For now," she says. The tone is playful, but there's an edge there that encourages Bella to drop the subject. Last names are hardly important in the grand scheme of things.

"Alright," Bella says agreeably. She takes a sip of her latte. "So, here we are."

"Here we are," Jane agrees, her smile sharp around the lip of her mug. Everything about Jane seems sharp, in a way, as if she doesn't have another setting. It makes her intimidating, larger than life even though she can hardly be any taller than Alice. Jane sits back, curling her fingers around the ceramic mug, tapered fingernails tap-tap-tapping. "You're pretty," Jane says abruptly, matter of fact as she stares at Bella. "And clearly brainy. Stanford, huh?"

"Computer science," Bella tells her.

"Yeah, but it's not just computer science, is it?" Jane prompts, laughing when Bella shrugs helplessly. "I knew it. You're such an overachiever in the game, of course, you would be an overachiever in real life. You Stanford geeks are like that."

Bella wrinkles her nose. "You talk like you're from Berkeley."

Jane lifts a brow, smirking.

Bella's eyes widen. "No way. My friend is also my enemy?"

"I can't help if your school's team sucks," Jane tells her. "Does that make me an enemy?"

"It does now," Bella says. "So, what's your major, then? Something in the humanities, I bet."

"You caught me," Jane confirms. "I'm studying poli-sci."

"It's fitting," Bella comments.

"Because I love to utilize the power of gossip?" Jane guesses and grins when Bella nods. "Well, I've known about the power of rumors and reputation since I was a kid. I might as well use it to make the world less shitty, right?"

It's a piece of insight Bella doesn't immediately expect from someone like Janeway, who has a moderately self-serving nature and is a glutton for drama. But she's still good-natured, isn't she? Janeway might be a gossip, but she's never gone out of her way to sow discord the way others do. She seems to genuinely view gossip as a tool she can use. Studying political science makes all sorts of sense, even for Jane, who is clearly privileged and obviously rich, from a family she doesn't want to disclose the name of but that had exposed her to the center of some sort of power for a young age.

Is Jane related to a celebrity? Maybe. Bella would bet on celebrity over mafia, which is her second guess.

"It's really good to meet you, you know?" Jane says, snagging Bella's wandering thoughts. "I've wanted to for a while, but life is all about getting the timing right. And the timing is right now."

Bella rips off a piece of her bear claw, the pastry melting like butter in her mouth. "You're being cryptic. Just spit it out, already."

Jane's lips compress, a vaguely annoyed expression settling across her face. "It's about the guild," she says with a derisive tone. "Or what's left of it, now that you've left. Illuminating Lotus is losing members every day thanks to all the problems caused by Queen Vs crew."

Bella admittedly hasn't been gaming a lot lately or keeping up with the news about a guild she's no longer part of, but it's still surprising to learn that one of the biggest guilds on the NorCal server is on the brink of breaking up. She listens in stunned amazement as Jane rattles off a mile-long list of complaints about the drama stirred up by Queen V and Cherry Lane, particularly Queen V who seems to be taking her status of being Relentless' in-game spouse as a free-pass to take advantage of her guild members.

"She ropes them into an instance dungeon that she can't beat with her weaksauce level, ends up getting them killed, and then she gathers the loot," Jane says with a curled lip. "it's so gross and dumb."

"I'm not surprised people are leaving, then," Bella says quietly.

Jane scoffs. "Yeah, me either. It makes sense, right? Except these idiots somehow got the idea that they're leaving to follow _you_ to a new guild that hasn't been established yet."

Bella's brows lift. "Wait, they're blaming _me_ for losing members?"

"Not everyone, but enough are buying Cherry Lane's bullshit," Jane says with a shake of her head.

"Why haven't you left yet?"

"Spite," Jane says simply. "And I want revenge for you."

"Jane," Bella says with censure. "I don't want revenge."

"You deserve it, though," Jane argues. "And I'm not taking no for an answer. What they did wasn't okay and they're running the guild into the ground, not to mention inadvertently damaging the levels of the players who are losing advancements thanks to Queen V's incompetence. Plus," Jane adds with a glint in her eye. "I think they're planning something."

"Planning something?" Bella echoes, furrowing her brow. "What do you mean?"

"They want to have a guild meet-up, supposedly for the purpose of keeping the guild together," Jane tells her. "But I think it's more than that. The past week or so, Queen V has been getting vocal about what _you're_ like in real life. I think she wants to use the opportunity to have the meet-up to solidify her, like, status as the prettiest girl on the server."

"Why would she do that?" Bella asks, genuinely baffled.

Jane gives her a dry look. "Because Relentless has a wandering eye, obviously. And his eye must be wandering back to you."

Bella chews on her lip. Does what Jane is saying make sense? It could. Relentless _had_ sent that weird message, hadn't he? Women have a way of picking up on when their significant other is losing interest in them, so if Relentless had even mentioned Swansong in passing, then it's feasible that Queen V would latch onto any way to remind Relentless that she, Queen V, is the superior choice. It's all more than a little ridiculous to Bella because she isn't one for disloyalty or mind games, but she can follow the thread of Jane's reasoning.

And that's why she leans across the table and fills Jane in on the message Relentless sent her, watching as Jane's face contorts into deep thought. "Well," Jane says at length. "That's creepy."

"I thought so, too, " Bella agrees. She's still trying to wrap her head around whether or not he was involved in the coup, or if things really did get out of hand.

Jane seems to be having the same issue. "Do you think he was in on the coup? I mean, it didn't seem like it, but he also wasn't stopping it from happening. And then to follow up with a message like that?"

"But why would he do that? What's the point?" Bella prompts.

Jane shrugs. "You're the one who was game-married to him. You tell me."

Bella shakes her head. "I have no idea. He's been different, and not in a good way."

"Dick," Jane laments seriously. She lifts her brow, gaze expectant. "So, what do you think about crashing their meet-up?"

Bella laughs. "I'm sorry, _what_ are you talking about?"

"They've been talking smack about you," Jane reminds her. "Mostly about how you must be a gremlin in real life and _that's_ why you didn't enter that stupid server contest like Queen V did since she seems pretty convinced winning that is what turned Relentless' eye in the first place. But now that I've seen you, well...Wouldn't it be great for them to see you and have to eat their words?"

Bella grimaces. Somehow, it's all come back to ridiculous beauty contests. She just can't seem to get away from them. "I'm not sure that's appropriate," she says. "And I don't really want to. I don't care about whatever Queen V is saying."

"Of course you don't," Jane agrees. "Because you're you, and Swansong is nothing if detached from worldly concerns. But, consider this. You can use the opportunity to get them off your back for good, and then you can game in peace."

Bella stares at Jane and Jane stares back, a calculating glint in her eye that Bella recognizes all too well. It reminds her of Masen's scheming expression, the one he makes when he's about to make a move that changes the entire game in his favor. Jane's brain has cooked something up that relies on Bella to fulfill. She doesn't doubt Jane's motivation is equally split between making the guild-ruiners eat their words and enjoying some good old-fashioned drama.

Still, it's tempting. Again, Bella can see where the thread of Jane's thoughts are connecting, because it makes perfect sense that showing her face once to settle everything would resolve this on-going, mostly one-sided conflict. Bella could use this opportunity to bury the hatchet and close the chapter with these gamers so she can move on. If she does this, if she crashes the meet-up, there's a pretty good chance it will clear up the opportunities for further gossip from this particular group so Bella can have peace on the server. She even thinks Masen might be proud that she's taking an opportunity to look out for her reputation.

"It might be good to clear the air," Bella concedes. "It's okay if I'm not directly invited, right?"

Jane's grin is wicked. "Would I invite you if it wasn't okay?" she asks innocently.

"Yes," Bella answers promptly. It would be a very Janeway thing to do, actually.

Jane laughs, a tinkling of glass and mirth. "Alright, I probably would. But they did you dirty and they're ruining the game. Someone has to do something about it, and I am in a hammer in want of a nail."

"I must be the nail," Bella surmises.

"You're the nail," Jane confirms, and something about the way she says it gives Bella the feeling that she's not seeing the full picture of Jane's plot.

But maybe that's okay. If Jane has hidden agendas, then does it really matter? Bella can take notes from Masen and turn this opportunity to her advantage. If this can help her live her life in peace, then what could it hurt?

"When is the meet-up?" Bella asks coolly.

Jane claps in delight. "I knew I could count on you, Swansong!"

Bella just smiles peaceably.

* * *

Bella Swan **ʘthelittlecygnet**  
Have you ever felt like you just signed a deal with a demon?

Jakey Wakey **ʘjbisnowhere  
**That's exactly what it's like to date Paul

PetePeter C.** ʘpeteypete**  
BIG MOOD **ʘthelittlecygnet** Also save me Masen's talking about working overtime this weekend

* * *

Peter is prone to exaggeration because it isn't that Masen is working overtime this weekend so much as it's the fact that Volturi is sending people down to Palo Alto to check on the demo progress and the only free day anyone had just happened to be a Saturday. When Masen tells her this, he is moderately apologetic about it, but Bella waves him off. It's no big deal. They can just get together a little later on Saturday.

This is what they agree to. Masen has the Volturi meeting at Midnight Sun in the early afternoon, so Bella will drop by around four and they will have a home date. She promises to bring pizza from Masen's favorite pizzeria and fully intends to avoid the Volturi meeting just like they agreed.

Only, that's not what happens. Bella arrives at Midnight Sun just shy of five, a piping-hot cardboard box of garlic aioli pizza in hand, and lets herself into the lobby just as she would any other day. She fully believes that the office is empty until she gets halfway past the cluster of programming computers and catches a glimpse of the black-suited group coming out of the conference room.

Bella freezes, a blush rising to her face when she recalls she's wearing nothing more than college-wear clothing - Stanford sweatpants, a hooded sweatshirt that nominally once belonged to Masen, and Chuck Taylors from her high school days - with her hair loose around her face. She is decidedly not dressed in any way that would be remotely appropriate for meeting the Volturi representatives, who have each coordinated their black-on-black business suits, even the ladies present. Even Masen has donned a tie for this meeting, although the tie is loose around his neck and he has folded the cuffs of his sleeves over his forearms.

Still. Bella realizes very abruptly that she has obviously arrived too early. Her blush deepens when she stammers out a lopsided greeting, shooting Masen a quick pleading look.

Masen, bless him, steps in smoothly. "Mr. Volturi, this is my girlfriend and one of our most promising graphic designers, Bella Swan," he introduces with a wave of his hand. "Bella, this is Marcus Volturi, the Vice President of Game Development at Volturi. And his assistants, Heidi and Felix."

"Pleased to meet you," Bella manages. "Sorry about..."

Marcus Volturi is an exceptionally tall man, with a long nose and a block-ish face framed by a curtain of long inky hair. He has a genial smile on his face and does not appear at all perturbed by running into an unexpected interloper. "I remember college," Marcus says fondly, waving her apology off. He turns to Masen with polite interest. "How many of your employees are Stanford graduates?"

"About 80%," Masen answers promptly.

"Ah, I see. You cherry-picked from your own class. Smart," Marcus praises. "You have an interesting company, Mr. Cullen, and your demo shows much promise. I feel comfortable to say, on behalf of Volturi, we are looking forward to what you have to show us in a few weeks."

"We won't let you down," Masen says simply. He lifts his hand in the direction of the lobby. "Let me walk you out."

Marcus agrees amicably, his two statuesque assistants smiling politely at Bella as they all leave.

Bella waits until they have reached the lobby before she scurries into Masen's office, drops the pizza on the little table he has between two white leather chairs, and groans into her hands. How embarrassing! Hopefully, it was only embarrassing for her, and not for Midnight Sun. She should have texted someone before she dropped by, but then again, if Masen is the only one hosting this meeting, then the others must be busy - she probably wouldn't have gotten a helpful response.

Arms slide around her sides, pulling her back into a firm chest. Masen's chin rests on the top of her head. "It's fine," he tells her soothingly.

"My timing is awful," she whines.

"The meeting was over, though it did run a little late. I should have let you know," Masen says.

Bella shakes her head. "I should have checked," she insists, turning around in his arms. "I didn't mess anything up, did I?"

"Volturi knows who we are," Masen answers simply.

Bella takes this to mean that Volturi is fully aware that Midnight Sun employees college students and college graduates, which must surely excuse some breach of business decorum. She hopes that's the case. She really doesn't know how any of it works.

Masen shifts his hold on her, looping his arms around the small of her back and waddling them backward until Bella's backside is against his desk. She looks up at him curiously, then squeaks when his hands close over her hips and lift her onto the desk. He flattens his hands on either side of her hips then leans forward, pressing his lips to the center of her forehead. "It's fine," he says again.

Bella smiles at him shyly, even as she reaches up to fiddle with his tie. "Well, good. I wouldn't want to mess anything up."

"You could never," he tells her solemnly.

She bites her lip to stop the grin from spreading across her face and then tilts her chin up to catch his lips in a soft kiss. They exchange gentle, almost chaste kisses for a while, the touch of their lips lingering, the kisses steadily growing deeper. Bella's grip on his tie tightens and she finds herself pulling on it hard enough that Masen has to untangle her fingers, pulling away from their kissing with a red mouth and a sly arch to his brow as he slips the tie out of its knot.

Bella's cheeks flare red and she clears her throat, casting about for something to fill the air and cut through the tension she is still sometimes unsure how to handle. "Oh, I meant to tell you that tomorrow I'm going to dinner with Jane - with Janeway, that is, my gaming friend," she says, latching on to the first thought that is even moderately worth discussing.

"Oh?"

"She wants me to crash an Illuminating Guild meet-up," Bella explains. "I think it's a good idea. Things are getting out of hand, but maybe they'll be cleared up if everyone can just talk like rational adults. Right?"

"Mm." Masen hums noncommittally, dropping his tie onto the desk. "I'll be ready to pick you up,"

Bella pauses, catching his eye. "Are you sure? They're meeting at a restaurant in San Mateo," she says.

"I'll be there," Masen repeats, sweeping both arms around her back and physically hauling her a scant inch closer so that his hips fit neatly between her thighs. One palm cups her cheek, tilting her head to an appropriate angle so he can brush a soft, lingering kiss against her lips. "Text me when you're ready. Okay?"

"Uh-huh," she agrees, head swimming.

Masen smiles against her lips, then trails kisses across her jaw and down her neck, keeping their chests pressed close together while she draws in quick breaths, her skin tingling at each heated press he bestows. "You look nice in my clothes," he mutters against her throat, pressing his hips forward so she can understand exactly how much he appreciates it.

Her knees press against his hips tighter, keeping him close when he lifts his head and captures another series of heated kisses, his warm palms dragging up the skin of her back. She winds her arms around his neck, arching against him with a gasp that Masen swallows as readily as he does every other breathless moan she makes as he slowly drives her newfound lust to new heights. She didn't know it could be like this, or that she would ever truly want this - and she knows for sure, if it was someone else, the urge wouldn't even occur to her.

But this is _Masen_. And she loves him. And she wants to express that love however she can, including in the physical way he seems to favor. It's not a hardship for her, even if it does take _some_ acclimation.

Masen is patient with her, of course. He always is, but especially in this, guiding her unerringly forward and seemingly content to wait for her to meet him halfway. She thinks, if anything, this makes her love him more.

Ten minutes later, Bella lays against the desk, heaving in gasping breaths and scrambling to hold onto _something_ while Masen holds her thighs open, his tongue swirling around her center with embarrassingly wet sounds, his grey-green eyes hazy and dark while he watches her writhe and whine. After, when he stands with his jeans unzipped, casually wiping the wetness from his mouth with his thumb, Bella has the thought that she will never be able to look at this office - or this desk - the same way again.

And then she licks her own lips, a shaky challenge coursing through her as she vows to make the same true for him. Thank God he closed the blinds earlier - not that she noticed until now, of course.

She doesn't think Masen minds, no matter how clumsy her attempt is.

* * *

Bella  
I should have listened to you before

Rose  
About what

Bella  
Are you going to make me say it?

Rose  
My sweet idiot child  
I am right about so many things  
I'll need a hint to know what I was right about this time

Bella  
Fine  
I should have listened to you about  
Intimate things

Rose  
Are you talking about sex  
Did you have sex?

Bella  
Can we not?

Rose  
So, not a home run then  
Pity

Bella  
Omg  
Is that necessary

Rose  
Hey, you're the one who came here  
Now  
What was it you actually needed?

Bella  
Could you tell me more about  
Oral

Rose  
Oooooh  
I see  
I most certainly can do that  
But first things first  
Did you swallow?

Bella  
Like I said  
I should have listened to you

Rose  
This is great  
Yes, yes I will tutor you in blow jobs  
Go buy some Tootsie pops and meet me in the dorm at nine  
Bring Alice too!

Bella  
Only if you promise not to make fun of me

Rose  
I'll do my best to hold back

Bella  
Why do I feel like you're lying?

Rose  
(smirking emoji)

* * *

Bella can truthfully say that she has never, not once, ever entertained the thought of meeting her guild - former guild - in person. It never crossed her mind, even knowing that many guilds regularly had meet-ups and that even Illuminating Lotus gathered in in-person clusters every once in a while. Bella had always declined, perfectly content to keep her online gaming life online, and the rest of her life separate.

But then Master Culler happened, and Master Culler became Masen Cullen, and Masen Cullen swept her off her feet - and now she thinks her younger self was awfully rigid for wanting to keep the two parts of her life so firmly apart. Then again, doing so might have saved her a lot of trouble, considering the entire Relentless situation that feels on the precipice of spiraling out of control.

Still, all the same, meeting the guild was not something she ever thought she would do. But here she is, in San Mateo, walking up to a semi-formal restaurant called Avenida with every intention of crashing a guild meet-up she wasn't strictly invited to. She brushes down the front of a cream faux-turtle sweater, which she has tucked into a floaty shell-pink knee-length skirt Esme once gave her. Her beige suede bootie match the camel-colored peacoat Alice lent her for the occasion and her hair, pulled away from her face by two loose braids that join low on the back of her head, ruffles in the cool evening breeze. In her mind, she thinks meeting up with an online gaming community would be better done at a bar or a more casual joint, but according to Jane, Relentless had spared no expense booking a restaurant for an entire night - and not just any restaurant, but a new Filipino fusion place that has been making waves in the San Mateo community.

Jane said that Relentless was "throwing his money around as if he's the only one that has any", and Bella isn't inclined to disagree with her assessment. Jane has money. She would probably know. In any case, even as she sees the low-lighting of the restaurant and the nice, deep navy jumpsuit Jane wears while she waits for Bella on the sidewalk, Bella can't help but feel like she's overdressed.

She has a moment, right before Jane sees her, where she thinks about turning around. All this scheming and subterfuge surely isn't worth it, is it? But her moment of doubt is quashed the moment Jane sees her, ruby red lips spreading into a wide grin as pin-straight platinum blond hair swings across her face.

"Oh good, you're here. Just in time! We're the last to get here," Jane says, hooking her elbow around Bella's as soon as she's close enough. Jane runs an appreciative eye over Bella, nodding in satisfaction. "You look great. This is perfect. Make them eat their hearts out."

"That's not why I'm here," Bella reminds her. "I'm here to clear the air."

Jane lifts a brow. "Who says you can't do both?"

Inside the restaurant, there is quiet milling of about twenty people, a sizable group for a guild meet-up. Bella doesn't know how the restaurant usually organizes their rich oak tables, but right now, they are lined up around the center of the room in a rectangle, chairs on only the outer edges of the tables. Some people are already sitting, while others are chatting in small one-and-two person groups. There is a cluster of attractive girls standing near the entryway, each of them dolled up the way Bella has only ever seen Rose do when she's posting on Instagram for a client. These girls are the first to notice Jane and Bella, and round on them with friendly-looking smiles.

"Are you here for the Illuminating Lotus meet-up?" one asks.

Jane smiles, a little sharp. "We sure are. I'm Janeway," she says, then tugs Bella closer with a wider grin. "This is Swansong."

It feels dramatic to say that the entire room goes quiet, but that's the way it is. It's so quiet the dim clattering of the kitchen staff can be heard, dozens of eyes locking onto Bella with a mix of surprise, astonishment, and outright disbelief - or in some cases, downright unfriendly looks, particularly from one girl with deep skin and sleek coiled hair, who presses her sparkling plum lips firmly together.

And then there is the man standing on the other side of the room, who looks up and locks eyes on Bella with a rapt sort of attention, his dark blond hair and hawkish features somewhat familiar. He makes his way over, even as the girls round on Jane and Bella with a high amount of skepticism. It makes her uncomfortable - and she has a sinking intuition that this is Relentless.

Why does he seem to recognize her?

"Swansong?" scoffs the dark-skinned girl, now glaring at Bella with avarice. Bella wonders what her problem is. "Who invited her? And how do we know that's really Swansong?"

"Did you ask anyone else to prove their identities?" Jane asks waspishly. "No? Then why only us? You think we're lying?"

"I think there's no way _she_ is Swansong," the snooty, dark-skinned one says.

"Why not?" Jane presses. "Do you know what Swansong looks like?"

"That's just the point," the other girl returns quickly. "None of us know what Swansong really looks like. You probably just brought some random girl here to prove a point."

Jane pounces on _that_ right away, eyes gleaming. "And what point would I be proving, exactly?" When the girl falters, Jane turns smug, and her tone shifts to something sardonic. "What, you think I brought a pretty girl here and call her Swansong _just_ to undercut the prettiest girl on the NorCal server? That's ridiculous. Don't you think you're reading too much into it?"

Bella side-eyes Jane, suddenly absolutely certain that this is exactly what Jane has done - or that this is one of Jane's hidden motivations for convincing Bella to be here. This is some psychological warfare-type stuff. Bella is surprised only because none of this scheming intelligence is apparent in the way Janeway plays DOW.

Jane shifts her attention to the redhead with the tumbling curls. "You're Queen V, right? Are _you_ upset Swansong is here?"

Queen V lifts her chin, even as her eyes narrow. "I really don't care," she says in an air-light tone. She weaves her arm around the man with the hawkish features, who stands woodenly at her side. "But I do think it's fair that she proves she's Swansong. In fact, we should all prove ourselves, right? We're gamers at a meet-up, aren't we? We should have a small round of duels and introduce ourselves."

This proposal is met with a round of agreement, and already several of the male gamers begin dragging out the laptops they evidently brought with them. Like Bella, they probably assumed this meet-up would be more like a LAN party and less like a dinner party - they're dressed in only jeans and button-up shirts, easily the most casual people in the room.

Since the food is apparently still being cooked, there is no reason to not clear off one of the tables and set up two laptops. Jane sits in one first, seemingly eager to get the whole process out of the way; at the other laptop is one of the casual boys, who ends up being the guild leader, JK Cheng. The group watches as they each log onto their DOW accounts and as JK Cheng easily defeats Janeway, who regards the whole thing with pointed air of boredom.

"Happy now," Jane asks as she logs out.

The dark-skinned girl huffs, crossing her arms. "That proves you," she says. "What about _her_?"

Bella, who has been silent until now, deeply uncomfortable with the skeptical attention directed at her, feels the need to speak up. She might not want to be here, she might want to call Masen and leave right away, but the tension in the room leaves her deeply unsettled. There's such aggression, here, hidden behind nice smiles and thinly-veiled words. She also doesn't appreciate being doubted like this.

"This is a meet-up, isn't it?" Bella asks rhetorically, moving to take Jane's seat. "I don't mind playing a few rounds."

The dark-skinned girl glares and sits down at the other laptop. They both log in, although most people are watching Bella instead of the other girl. When Swansong materializes on the screen, gasps of excitement ripple around the room, although Queen V and her friend look less than pleased.

"Kick her ass," Jane mutters at Bella's elbow.

Bella refrains from sighing. But she will admit that she _does_ play with her food a little, making the girl - who turns out to be Cherry Lane - chase her around the arena on the screen, hitting Cherry Lane with small spells that chip away at her HP. At one point, one of the others makes a remark that _Swansong should put Cherry out of her misery_, and that's when Bella's fingers fly across the keyboard in a familiar combination that kills off Cherry Lane in a single move.

Whoops and clapping sounds across the room. "This is really Swansong!" someone says, and someone else follows it up with, "I can't believe we're really meeting one of the top players on the server!" and "I can't believe she's so pretty!"

Bella eyes the way Cherry Lane and Queen V exchange weighted, displeased glares, even as other players line up to take Cherry Lane's place, each of them pleading to play against Swansong face-to-face. Although a little embarrassed, she sees so reason to not play a few games, which is how she learns to put the handles of her former guild-mates to names and faces of real people. It's how she learns the Cherry Lane's real name is Lauren, and that Queen V is called Victoria, and that she is dating James, who is actually Relentless, just like she suspected.

After a while, a waiter comes out of the kitchen and says that the food is almost ready, which prompts the laptops to be put away and tables to be shifted back into place, everyone finding a seat. Bella sits by Jane, mostly for the comfort of familiarity, and finds herself directly across from Cherry Lane, Queen V, and Relentless.

She does her best to keep a placid expression on her face, even as she feels the weight of stares on her, even as she exchanges quiet words with her seat neighbors and eats her meal. It's unfortunate that her stomach is so tight with tension because she's pretty sure this is the best Filipino food she's ever had and she can barely taste it.

"So, Swansong," JK Cheng says at one point, rubbing his thigh after Cherry Lane hits him. "Why are you here? Not to be rude, but this is a guild meet-up and…"

"Jane invited me," Bella answers calmly. "I thought it was a good opportunity to clear the air about what happened with the guild."

JK Cheng nods, glancing at Cherry Lane. "I see. That's, you know, good of you. The guild was sad to see you go."

Jane scoffs into her drink. "Bet you're even sadder that more guild members are fleeing, right?" She grins when JK Cheng flushes, gesturing her hand around. "What, is that not what this whole meet-up is about? The guild is on the verge of downgrading from lack of members or disbanding altogether, so Relentless here took out his wallet to change the narrative about the toxic atmosphere of Illuminating Lotus. Or am I wrong?"

Relentless - James - clears his throat pointedly. "It was still a nice thought, Bella," he says, ignoring Jane entirely. "There doesn't need to be any bad blood between us. The whole thing was a misunderstanding."

Bella nods, not really agreeing, and says, "It would be nice for the NorCal server to be peaceful again."

"Will you come back to the guild?" someone asks.

Bella shakes her head. "No, I'm too busy with school and work right now," she says.

Cherry Lane - Lauren - laughs meanly. "Oh? Are we supposed to believe you actually go to school?"

Both Jane and Bella bristle at the tone. "What is that supposed to mean?" Jane demands.

Lauren tosses her head. "Only that I doubt such an illustrious gamer actually has the time to go to class. I mean, maybe she's just saying she goes to college. Plenty of girls _say_ they're in college, but they're really hustling, you know? It would explain why she's so good at the game. You have plenty of time to hone your...skills."

Bella breathes in deeply, trying to stop out the rapid flare of her temper at the implication. Because is it just her, or did Cherry Lane really just accuse Bella of being an escort - or a hooker - just based on the fact that she's passably pretty and good at playing a video game? She shakes her head, trying to follow the logic, and fails. "First you ask me to prove myself as Swansong, and now you ask me to prove I'm a college student," Bella says quietly. "Do you want to see my student ID? Or will you say it's forged?"

There's a chorus of agreement, many people muttering about Cherry Lane taking things too far. "She's a sore loser," one of the boys near Bella says to his neighbor. "She's ruining the guild single-handedly."

Lauren, hearing this, shifts her glare to the boys.

Victoria, meanwhile, sets to soothing the ruffled feathers. "We're all gamers here, aren't we? Let's talk nicely. Let's all go around and say what our majors are to see if we have any common ground."

This is a distraction for a while, and the small-talk seems to last through the first course and well into dessert. But even though Bella is surrounded by people who seem happy enough getting to know each other, and by Jane who is covertly stoking Cherry Lane's ire with great amusement, Bella can't help but want to get away from the crowd. She doesn't want to be here. She hasn't wanted to be here since the moment she stepped into the restaurant.

Bella pulls out her phone and sends Masen an SOS.

Masen

I'll be there in 20 minutes

She breathes out a quiet sigh of relief and picks up her fork again, intent to tuck into her dessert again. But she doesn't get the chance because Victoria turns to Bella with a simpering smile and says, "So, do you have a boyfriend?"

Bella doesn't miss the way James pins Victoria with a dark look before he too turns his attention to Bella, looking entirely too invested in the answer.

"Actually," Bella starts coolly, aware of the renewed attention on her and dimly hating every moment of it. "I do. He's on his way to pick me up right now."

The few other girls in the room, with the exception of Lauren, get excited about this. Victoria sends James a triumphant look and peppers Bella with more questions, all while her hand remains clamped onto James', her manicured nails tapping at the back of his knuckles each time Bella gives a glossed answer about her relationship with Masen. Beside her, Jane gives her a nudge and a lifted brow, kind of like, _Do you see that, too_?

Bella doesn't know what to make of it. But she doesn't feel good about the night, particularly because she doesn't think the air was actually cleared at all - or not as much as she wanted it to be. It's unfortunate, but at this point, what else can she do? She came, she saw, she tried to be nice. If anything, maybe she succeeded on clearing the air with the rest of her former guild, but she isn't too certain about Lauren, Victoria, or James.

_Especially_ James, who stands from his seat the moment Bella does and says, "Let's meet this boyfriend of yours."

"That's really not necessary," Bella tries.

James shakes his head. "We wouldn't be doing our duty as your friends if we didn't make sure this boyfriend is a good guy," he says, and while it sounds good-natured and while others latch onto the reasoning, Bella can't help but feel like it's all just really a flimsy excuse.

She has that uncomfortable feeling again, just like when she read Relentless' message, just like when she turned down his in-person invites. But she doesn't disagree. If anything, maybe meeting Masen will send him the message he so desperately needs to grasp. Maybe.

Bella goes outside to wait in front of the restaurant after she insists on paying her portion of the tab, Jane at her heels, followed by everyone else. They all congregate on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant and look up and down the street expectantly.

Fortunately, they don't have to wait long. Masen is punctual and the silver company car idles up the curb with a flash of headlights in the growing autumn dark. He leaves the car idling while he steps out, rounding the front bumper, which illuminates the handsome planes of his face perfectly.

Behind Bella, there is a hushed squeal of excitement, a few of the girls commenting on Masen's looks - as if that's the only thing he has to offer! Bella ignores them, turning to Jane with a smile and a promise to talk later, which Jane agrees to with a breezy smile. Masen, meanwhile, has slipped his hand around the small of her back, fingers curling over her hip as he waits for her to say her good-byes.

"I hope we can meet in the game again," Bella tells the group at large, and there is a chorus of agreement. She lifts her hand in a wave, studiously ignoring the heavy weight from the other end of the sidewalk where James and Lauren are standing. Maybe if she doesn't acknowledge them, they'll go away.

It isn't the case. As soon as she and Masen make for the car, Lauren's voice cuts through the air. "Did you know your girlfriend dates other men? Her reputation is trash in the game. You should know that she strings everyone along before she gets her claws into you."

Bella compresses her lips, breathing deeply. Masen catches her eye, asking a silent question, and Bella shakes her head. She doesn't want to deal with it, but if he wants to, then he's more than welcome to. She is so very tired of Lauren and her senseless vendetta.

Masen opens the car door for Bella, then turns to address Lauren, even as Bella is climbing inside the car. "I know Bella's character," he says simply.

"Then you're a fool to think-"

Masen cuts Lauren off. "Actually, I'm Master Culler."

Even from inside the car, Bella can hear the ripple of gasps, the outright surprise that strikes the group of gamers. There's a lot of disbelief, which is swiftly replaced by awe. None of them thought they would be meeting Swansong tonight, let alone the top gamer on the server.

Bella has the exact right vantage point to see the way James takes a step forward, his jaw clenched. "_You're_ Master Culler?" he demands.

"Yes. Although, you can call me Masen Cullen," Masen responds dryly. "And you are James Denali, correct?"

James stiffens. "I am."

Masen shifts, casual and at ease, hands in his pockets. "We're competing for the same contract," he says. "Good luck to you and Denali."

"We don't need _luck_," James sneers, darting a glance to Bella as she buckles herself in.

She looks away, avoiding that drilling gaze, and Masen steps in front of the passenger window, bodily blocking her from view.

"You do need luck," Masen says flatly. "And you need to remember your place," he adds, jerking his chin to where Victoria is fuming behind James.

"You-"

"We have to go if we want to beat traffic," Masen says, interrupting whatever response James was drumming up. "Nice to meet you all."

Most of the other gamers wave at Masen and shout final farewells to Bella, and she lifts her hand in another weak wave, which she holds until Masen drives off. When the restaurant is no longer in view, Bella squeezes her eyes closed and drops her head against the headrest.

"It was awful and awkward," she announces.

Masen hums.

"I think it ended up being a waste of time," she continues, disappointed despite herself. She goes on to explain all the slights Cherry Lane gave her, the way Victoria seemed like a muddled middleman, the way James just kept _looking_ at her. She shakes her head. "I'm glad you were able to pick me up so soon. Thank you."

Masen reaches across the consol, taking her hand in his and lifting her knuckles to his lips. He casts her a quick side-eye. "I'm sorry it wasn't what you hoped it would be."

She shrugs. "It was a long shot, anyway. The world isn't perfect. It's inevitable to have...conflicts with other people."

"Mm."

The car is silent for a few more minutes. Masen navigates to the highway to take them home. Bella draws in a breath. "So," she starts with a little caution. "You know him, don't you? Relentless, I mean."

"I know of him," Masen corrects. "He's the Denali heir-apparent, so his team is competing directly with ours.

"How long have you known?" she wonders.

"A week or so," Masen says.

Her eyebrows lift. An entire week. And no wonder she thought he looked familiar - she must have seen him at Denali Corp, all those months ago. Actually, didn't she talk to him? She feels like this is the kind of information she should have known about before crashing this meet-up, which is exactly what she tells Masen. "Were you ever going to tell me that Relentless was also vying for the Volturi contract?"

"Not unless I had to," Masen admits. "Didn't want to worry you. I'm keeping an eye on him and his...interest in you."

That's somewhat mollifying, at least. It's nice to know that Masen is actively looking out for her, even when she isn't aware of it. And she's glad for his covert surveillance, or whatever it is that he's "keeping an eye on", because maybe that means she won't have to solve the conundrum of Relentless by herself. Because it feels like, more and more, for whatever inexplicable reason, Relentless is intent to live up to his name when it comes to Bella.

She doesn't like that her _no_ isn't being honored. That's where the discomfort is coming from. She doesn't understand this renewed interest or when it started, but she has the feeling that Relentless isn't going to get the picture unless someone else steps in.

Masen can do that for her. Masen seems to want to do that for her, and she's glad to let him.

All the same, she squeezes his hand and makes sure her tone is serious when she speaks. "In the future, I would like to know these things," she says. "Let's not have secrets, okay?"

Masen glances away from the road, catching her eye, and agrees with a solemn nod. "No secrets."

Bella smiles slightly, resting back against the seat. It's not a long drive back to Masen's loft, but she spends the time trying to turn over and reconcile everything that happened tonight, shelving the pieces that don't make sense and discarding the ones that don't matter. It wasn't how she thought the night would go, but she can admit that she was being naively optimistic. The night probably went as well as it could have gone.

When they get to the loft, Masen digs out a pair of female sweatpants from a mostly empty drawer in his room, holding them out to her when she makes noise about taking a quick shower. Bella blinks, takes the sweats, and toddles off to the bathroom.

Did Masen just give her a drawer? And buy her a passable pair of pajamas to keep here?

He really did.

She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. Atari, who has followed her into the bathroom, mews at her feet, weaving around her ankles.

"Your dad is a unique man," she tells the cat.

Atari mews again, as if in agreement.

Bella starts the shower, letting the steam build up in the bathroom. She takes her phone out of her pocket, prepared to set it on the counter and finish undressing, but she hesitates and pulls up her contact list, instead. Masen isn't the only one who was keeping something from her tonight, and Bella has had enough time to think about it on the way back to understand that Jane is keeping something huge under her hat. Bella wants to know what it is.

Bella  
Did you plan that?

Jane  
Ah  
That's something I can't tell you!

Bella  
Really?

Jane  
It's not the right time  
Just know that I did you multiple favors  
And your boyfriend too, actually

Bella  
I don't understand

Jane  
You will!  
Soon!

Bella certainly hopes that's true.

* * *

**A/N: Did I genderbend Laurent? Yes, I did. Lauren is the official Life and Death version of his name. You can fact-check me. Also, is Jane playing 3D chess? Yes, she is, but probably not for the reasons you expect! And did James get the message when he and Masen measured their dicks? Who knows? Stay tuned!**

**As an additional note, I am officially changing the update schedule of this story. Expect an update once every two weeks. My RL is being extra draining right now and I'm struggling to find time to write. I know this fic is a quarantine comfort story for a lot of you, so I'm truly sorry, but I need more time between chapters. Rest assured, the story _will_ be completed, but it's just going to be updated twice a month. The next update should be right after Thanksgiving.**

In America, COVID-19 cases are going up a lot more - by a truly alarming amount - and masks are still being politicized for some reason, and the sanctity of a democratic election is being dragged through the mud. To be clear, all votes from eligible voters are legal votes, regardless of how those votes are cast. Many states, including my own, have been doing mail-in ballots for decades for all elections, state and local. I'm truly and utterly disgusted by the rhetoric that there are "legal" votes and that counting all of the votes that are cast is somehow fraud and a lot of other nonsense being thrown around. It's tiring. But we do have a small, very small, silver lining in the Pfizer vaccine - although, I would encourage everyone to not get too excited. That whole "90% effective rate" was from a press release and not the metadata on the study, and the vaccine is still in clinical testing stages, and it still needs to be determined if these vaccines are going to be one-and-done like polio or annual like the flu shot. There's a whole lot in the air about the vaccines still, but the Pfizer announcement _is still good news_. Just. Take it with a grain of salt and manage your expectations.

2020 has taught us all a lot about managing expectations, hasn't it?

**As always, be honest. I can take it. Please stay safe. Continue wearing your masks, take care of yourself, and for the love of God, embrace a Zoom Thanksgiving. Eating dry turkey together is not more important than staying alive.**

**~Rae**


	72. everything goes jane's way

**[everything goes jane's way]**

Jane doesn't want to brag about it or anything, but she knows _everything_ and she is always, _always_ right. Truly. There's no better way to get through life than leveraging knowledge to her own advantage, and while that sometimes means she sticks her nose into places it doesn't belong, it always results in Jane being a step ahead of everyone, which is exactly how she likes it.

So, when Jane arranged to meet with Swansong - Bella Swan, who is just as sweet-tempered in person as she is online - she had done so knowing full well that she was stirring the pot. She did it deliberately, even, because her loathing for self-important asshats has been cultivated over a lifetime and she had very quickly reached the end of her admittedly short rope when she had to deal with Relentless and Cherry Lane, day in and day out. Of course, getting the better of those two entitled idiots was only one of her motivations.

Jane, without fail, always has at least three reasons to do anything. In this case, she probably has at least five. Beyond her own annoyance, she's been perturbed for months by the way her online friend is letting herself be treated, and she's grown tired of seeking it slide. And for another thing, knowing what she knows, she couldn't resist the chance to orchestrate a meeting between a few top players on the server.

Jane wishes she had been fast enough to snap a picture of when James Denali realized that Bella's boyfriend, Masen Cullen, was not only Master Culler, but the CEO of the little company competing for a special game development contract that just-so-happens. But since she wasn't quick enough, she'll have to settle for remembering that face with her prodigious memory.

It's probably for the best, anyway. Jane always needs to maintain plausible deniability, after all. Naturally, when she learned the whos-who through the Volturi grapevine, she couldn't resist killing a few birds with one stone. She does live for the drama.

Now all the players know each other. James Denali who is Relentless knows that Masen Cullen who is Master Culler is his direct competition in two ways - for the Volturi contract, and for Bella's heart. The part of Jane that binge-watches reality television and intrigue-ridden historical dramas is so very, very pleased. She has no doubts about who is going to win either of those prizes, either. She's done her research.

So when Alec saunters into her room with that annoyingly smarmy grin on his face and tells Jane that Uncle Caius has decided to change the deadline for the competing companies, implying that it's a favor to his old friend Eleazar Denali and his nephew James, Jane doesn't hesitate to propose a bet.

"Midnight Sun is obviously going to get that contract," she states, bold as brass, lifting her chin to her twin's challenge.

Alec shakes his head. "Please, Denali is the company with connections," he disagrees, spoken like a true student of business, where connections are often louder than a novelty. "They're obviously going to get it."

"How confident are you?" Jane taunts. "Because I'm confident to bet my Jag."

Alec squints at her. "You're putting your prized baby on the line for some rookie start-up?"

Jane lifts a brow. "I have my own connections, brother, and I have no doubt that me and my baby will not be parted. Because I'm going to win."

Alec, being the predictable idiot he is, eagerly rises to the challenge. He's been after Jane's precious car for two years, so of course, he can't resist temptation. "Fine, if I win, I get your car. If you win, you can have my Gucci belt."

Jane snorts. "Just the belt? As if. I want your entire collection," she counters because she knows how Alec feels about his couture fashion and she can think of nothing better than making him watch as she auctions his shit on eBay for ridiculously low prices.

"You're on," Alec agrees, too easily, too confidently.

Jane smiles, sugar-sweet.

She'll have to make sure she's in the building on the presentation day. She might not be able to vote for the winner, and she genuinely has no plans to whisper in her dad's ear to make Aro Volturi pick her favorite, but she definitely wants to see the reactions when Midnight Sun wins. Because they will. Rookie team or not, quality _matters_, and Jane knows what quality is.

Jane is right about everything, _always_. She has no doubts about the outcome.

_Now, who will be the most outraged_? She muses, her smile sharpening as her brother excuses himself. _James or Alec? I hope it's James - humiliation is nothing less than what _he _deserves_.

* * *

**A/N: Update 1 of 3! We're getting a glimpse of the inner-workings of Jane's mind and her plans. I struggled to come up with things that rich people would consider both valuable but also not so valuable that losing them in a bet would *hurt*. The lives of the rich are ridiculous. But as a point of note, an F-Type Jaguar costs $60,000 USD, and a collection of Gucci jewelry, specifically one Gucci belt made with Swarvoski diamonds, can match that price. Like I said, rich people are ridiculous! **

**Stay tuned for more updates!**

**~Rae**


	73. i dew care because i'm a sugar kitten

**[Instagram]**

I Dew Care Because I'm a Sugar Kitten!

_(A post with two pictures. The first is an angled selfie of Rose Hale smirking around a lollipop, one eye squeezed closed in a cheeky wink. Her hair is pulled away from her face in a high ponytail and her skin is covered in an iridescent green-purple sheen. In the second picture, she still has the mask on her face and she looks amused about something off-camera, her gaze looking up and above the angle of her selfie. She's also pointing a half-eaten Tootsie pop, the cherry color a garish contrast to her face, at someone as her lips part in laughter.)_

**byanyothername** Lessons come in all kinds of forms! But no matter what, you can prove to your skin that you do care by using an ultra-hydrating mask!

#selfcare #idewcare #sugarkitten #peelitoff #stayhydratedkids

**Comments**

mathmagician Still pretty like this! Incredible!

Ty-Liar Oh but to be that sucker...

savethebees Ty, you already are a sucker.

**View More Comments**

* * *

**A/N: This is update 2 of 3 this week! And has it been a week. I'm so tired, folks, and I'm in the "hating the holiday season" phase. Tired tired tired! But anyway! I Dew Care is a Korean-made skincare brand that makes _legitimately_ lovely skincare products. Sugar Kitten is a nice hydrating peel-off mask, but the true stars of the skincare line are Cake My Day, a hydrating wash-off mask, and Berry Groovy, a glycolic acid wash-off mask that's ideal for acne and uneven skin tone. A little pricey, but also made with vegan, cruelty-free ingredients! So it might be worth it!**

**On to more updates!**

**~Rae**


	74. chapter 30

**[chapter_30]**

"There are three things you need to keep in mind when you're giving head," Rose starts with an arrogant, but not surprising, amount of authority. She's set them up for their lesson in the common room the night before midterms, one week before Thanksgiving Break, seating Alice and Bella side-by-side and standing over them with her head elevated in deep thought.

Alice is watching with a serious knit between her brow, focused intently; Bella, on the other hand, is trying not to sink into her bean bag chair despite the fact that she's the one that asked for pointers in the first place. It's just - she didn't expect Rose to take to the lesson with such zeal that Bella almost feels like she should be taking notes. Almost. She won't be caught writing this information down. That's just asking to be blackmailed at a later date.

Rose holds up her hand, ticking her fingers off with each point she makes. "First, keep your teeth covered, because nobody wants to hear a man whining about his scraped dick, unless that's something he's into. Second, make peace with the fact that the back of your mouth is not a sacred space. It's inevitable for you to gag, even if you're not attempting to deep throat, so you need to prepare yourselves. Of course, some men are into gagging, so play that one by ear," she adds thoughtfully. "Third, and most importantly, there is no such thing as a truly bad blowjob."

While part of Bella is relieved to hear _that_, she's also equally as confused as Alice, who pipes in with a befuddled, "There isn't?"

Rose purses her lips in thought. "Well, maybe there is for a casual hookup, but since you're blowing a boyfriend, you _really_ don't need to overthink it," she decides, nodding to herself. She reaches down to pat Alice and Bella on the head, as if they're particularly sweet-and-stupid children. "He's going to be happy about whatever you do, simply because it's you. Just make sure to cover whatever your mouth can't reach with your hand. Otherwise, the technique isn't something you need to worry about."

Bella understands the point, but her competitive edge wants to improve because Masen so effortlessly breaks her apart and she would really like to return the favor. It's not that she thinks her first attempt was bad, exactly, because the objective was accomplished - it's just that she felt ill-prepared for it, and she thinks that might have affected her performance.

Bella has very rarely ever performed poorly in anything. The first time she tries something, perhaps, but she's a firm believer that hard work and the slow-grinding tenacity that comes from consistent efforts toward a goal is enough to cancel out any potential for failure. The second time she seriously does anything, she fully expects to succeed.

She really, truly has a mortifying desire to succeed in this, too. Hence, the invitation for the humiliation that Rose is so apt to deliver on command.

"I can see the wheels turning, Bella," Rose says, plopping down on her own bean bag chair, an open bag of Tootsie pops in her lap.

Bella lifts her orange sucker, twirling the stick around. "I'm just wondering how a Tootsie pop is supposed to help with any of this."

Rose scoffs. "The Tootsie pops are here mostly because I like them and I demand payment for my tutoring."

"I should have known," Bella mutters, fighting a laugh. Typical Rose.

"But they can be helpful. Here, look," Rose says a beat later. She takes the wrapper off one of the Tootsie pops in the bag and proceeds to deliver a shameless demonstration. "See? Sucking enough of these helps you get used to the weight on your tongue, how to move your tongue around it, and how to keep your throat relaxed if you push the sucker far enough."

Bella blinks down at her own sucker. "Huh."

"You really thought I was just bullshitting you!" Rose exclaims, waving her candy in the air.

"Honestly? A little bit," Bella admits.

Alice giggles, trying to work the paper off her Tootsie pop. "Me too," she says. "I always thought, I don't know, bananas would be a good prop. But I guess suckers work?"

Rose flops back, pouting around the candy. "All of my efforts, absolutely unappreciated," she mumbles.

"You have your Tootsie pops," Bella reminds her.

Rose snorts. "Right. Well, do your worst. Let me see your technique."

Rose coaches them both with a few directives, repeatedly telling Bella to open her mouth wider and relax her jaw. But it's hard, because how she can keep her jaw relaxed while she has to also keep her lips firmly around her teeth _and_ keep her mouth wide? Rose keeps returning her frustrated huffs with _"it gets easier and it takes practice"_ which Bella finds barely reassuring. At least Alice is having similar struggles. Bella concludes that she's probably going to have to do some one-on-one practice with the Tootsie pop to develop some semblance of a technique.

"Any other pearls of wisdom I can offer?" Rose asks after watching them struggle for ten minutes.

Bella clears her throat. Her mouth is sticky with sugar and her Tootsie pop is misshapen on one side from her efforts. "What do we do at the end? Do we…we swallow or…?"

Rose shrugs, talking around her sucker. "Depends on you and your man. Some don't care, but it turns others on more," she says knowledgeably. "If you can stand to swallow, you might as well since it's less cleanup. If you cant, have a tissue ready and learn his cues so you don't get anything on your face. Unless he's into that, I guess…"

Bella thinks about Masen, flushed in the ears and bracing himself back on his desk, his mouth dropped open and his eyes hazy as she knelt between his legs. He had watched her so avidly, even as she coughed and sputtered at the gush of salty tang in her mouth. She isn't sure he has a preference, although he certainly didn't shy away from kissing her after she was done. She'll have to think about it more.

"Ali?" Rose calls.

"I think I'm good," Alice decides, staring her Tootsie pop down for a second. Bella wonders what's going through her head and if it's anything like what's going through Bella's. Alice's eyes shift to the bag in Rose's lap. "Can I have the chocolate ones?"

Rose sighs, put upon. "You may have three," she says, fishing them out.

"You're so stingy," Alice complains.

"It's my payment for services rendered," Rose insists. "You should be glad I'm not charging you individually!"

Bella laughs, tucking her sucker back in her mouth. "Yeah, but you also enjoyed this way too much."

Rose smirks. "That's true. But when else do I get this kind of free entertainment?"

Alice giggles and Bella can't help but join in. This is the scene that Leah walks into five minutes later - the three of them, all sucking on Tootsie pops, with Rose telling Alice to "_suck harder, don't you want him to feel something?"_

"What in the actual fuck am I witnessing?" Leah demands, leaning back against the door with an expression of confused horror. "What are you guys _doing_?"

Rose pops her Tootsie pop out of her mouth, lifting a brow. "Do you really want to know?"

Leah surveys the room, seeming to take in the hefty blush on Bella's cheeks, and makes a swift decision. "Nope. No, I do not want to know. I have a feeling it's going to scar me for life, and I'm too young to be traumatized by...whatever you three are up to."

"A wise decision!" Rose calls after Leah as she retreats to the relative safety of her and Bella's shared dorm room. Rose then looks between Alice and Bella. "Now, where were we?"

Bella represses a sigh, reminding herself that she explicitly asked for this. She wants to improve. Really, she does.

Really.

* * *

L Clearwater **ʘClearlyFlimingThis  
**I don't know what I just saw but I would like to unsee it

Seth Clearwater **ʘchangethisquil**  
What did you see?

L Clearwater **ʘClearlyFlimingThis**  
I don't know, but I think you're too young to know about it

Bella Swan **ʘthelittlecygnet**  
Some of you weren't raised with dramatic siblings who take every opportunity to Not Suffer In Silence and it shows

Jakey Wakey **ʘjbisnowhere**  
Yes girl! DRAG HER! She deserves it!

L Clearwater **ʘClearlyFlimingThis**  
Wow ʘthelittlecygnet you're really going to be like that on main? The audacity

L Clearwater **ʘClearlyFlimingThis**  
Also, I see you ʘjbisnowhere

Jakey Wakey **ʘjbisnowhere**  
I know things about you, Clearwater, and I'm not afraid.

Seth Clearwater **ʘchangethisquil**  
I can't wait to be in college so I can have weird college things to not tell my siblings, too :(

* * *

Midterms go about as well as can be expected. Bella had studied for them until her eyes burned and she's fortunate enough to be relatively confident about how well she performed. Multiple-choice tests aren't her favorite things in the world, but she can manage them well enough - it is somewhat alarming, however, to learn that midterms were _this_ hard because she can only imagine how difficult finals will be.

But it's fine. Totally fine. Finals are weeks away, so she has plenty of time to prepare. For now, because she's lucky enough that her finals were done by Wednesday, she plans to spend the rest of the week at Midnight Sun. Masen had announced that the company would be taking a week-long break during Thanksgiving so everyone could travel as they pleased, a decision motivated by how much they've gotten done on the demo so far. Bella figures it wouldn't hurt to pitch in any extra assistance she can give, so she heads over to Midnight Sun early on Thursday morning, an indulgent latte snuggled in her hand as she walks into the office.

Bella had expected the usual commotion of everyone working toward the collective goal. It's never _loud_ at Midnight Sun, but there is usually a lot of ambient noise going on, between clacking keyboards and hushed conversations and whatever mischief Peter is sowing that day.

But when Bella walks in this morning, she arrives in a space full of dead silence and two dozen men all staring at Masen, swiveled in their chairs as he stands in the middle of the large space. His expression is flat, but his jaw is tensed, tic-ticking at the hinge. He is staring at this phone, scrolling through something on the screen.

"Well?" Peter says impatiently, rolling his chair forward an inch or two. "What does it say, boss?"

"December 1st," Masen says flatly, pocketing his phone as a small furrow crawls between his brows.

Bella doesn't understand the significance of the date, but she's the only one. As soon as Masen speaks, the room erupts with noise - a chorus of denials and "_can you believe this" _and other noises that cross between disbelief and agony.

Bella blinks, catching the way Peter throws himself into Garrett's arms with a wretched, if not overdramatic, cry; as Garrett pats his back and stares intently at Masen; as Masen shoves his hand through his hair, ignoring the way Emmett has slouched back onto his chair, head in his hand; as Alistair simply stands up and starts pacing around the room. And these are far from the only reactions she observes, frankly a little baffled.

"What's going on?" she asks, raising her voice.

"It's horrible!" someone says.

"Awful! Just awful!"

"They're making us suffer, Swansong!"

Bella makes a helpless noise of confusion, looking directly at Masen now as she wades into a room full of despair. "Why are they acting like this?" she asks him.

Masen breathes out deeply, evenly. "Volturi has moved up the demo deadline by four weeks," he tells her dispassionately, ignoring the new wail Peter lets out into Garrett's stomach.

Bella, very suddenly, understands the dramatics. "Oh," she says meekly. "That's...very soon."

"Thirteen days," Garrett says.

Thirteen days - that's much, much sooner than the original deadline, which was supposed to be the week after Christmas. Bella's mind touches briefly on the amount of work she knows the graphics team has to complete and comes to the conclusion that there is almost no way they will be able to get all of that work done before the new deadline. Cuts are going to have to be made, probably, because she doesn't think either Alistair or Masen will be willing to sacrifice quality. She has a feeling that it's her character design interface that will be cut, given that it's arguably more superfluous than other projects.

"Oh," she says again, feeling the weight of the new deadline. She feels like she needs to sit down. She looks around, finds a chair, and does exactly that.

"This is bullshit!" Peter says loudly, swiftly switching from sadness to abject anger. "Why are they doing this?"

"I'd like to know that, too," Emmett agrees, looking at Masen warily. "Did they say why?"

Masen crosses his arms over his chest. "Volturi's COO, Caius, is having surgery in early December. The demo deadline is being rescheduled so that he can have enough time to recover before the holidays."

"That's fishy as fuck!" Peter exclaims. "They should have just rescheduled the deadline to be _after_ the dude is recovered, not before the surgery!"

"Tactical advantage," Garrett says succinctly, folding an arm around Peter's waist to hold him still.

Masen nods.

"What, are you saying this was done on _purpose_?" Emmett demands. "Are you kidding? How? And why?"

"Almost certainly," Alistair says, grim-faced as he paces closer. He narrows his pale eyes in thought. "Was it Denali?"

Masen tilts his head. "Caius Volturi and Eleazar Denali both graduated from Marshall Business School at USC," Masen tells them. "It's possible Denali called in a favor to put us at a disadvantage."

Several men in the room let out colorful curses at this news, but Masen raises his hand up, calling for silence. Dimly, she admires the way he so effortlessly commands the entire room.

"Be upset later," he says, flint in his voice and in his eyes. "We need to strategize. Meeting in the conference room in ten minutes. You four, with me," he adds, flicking his fingers at Alistair, Emmett, Peter, and Garrett, who all trail after him to the office, the door shutting behind them soundly.

"What are we going to do, man?" one of the programmers asks the room.

Liam snorts. "Fucking idiots, what do you _think_ we're going to do? Do you see who's in charge of us?"

Bella considers Liam's assessment and finds that, objectively, he's probably right. No, he _is_ right. Masen is just as competitive and ambitious as she is, but he has a flair for strategy that doesn't let her doubt, not even for a second, that he's going to come up with a way to get the demo done in totality. She thinks Denali and Volturi - if they're colluding - don't know Masen very well at all. What they thought might be a stumbling block that will make a young company like Midnight Sun cut corners is going to, instead, light a fire under all these minds - Masen's mind, especially.

This is why she isn't surprised to learn that Masen is reworking the schedule for the entire team and incentivizing it with bonuses and overtime pay. In the conference room, Masen calmly outlines the new strategy, which involves the next seven days working in shifts around the clock, taking Thanksgiving day itself off, and then finishing the demo work by November 30th. With a cool head, he talks about the small handful of projects that are being adjusted, explaining that he still wants those projects present in the demo, but that they need to be more limited. For Bella, this means her interface will be whittled down to show how it would work, rather than having the full selection of options that she had planned on; others have projects that are also similarly restricted.

Masen says the plan is realistic if everyone can perform well. Masen says he's confident Midnight Sun can meet this new deadline without sacrificing any quality. Masen says that failure is not an option for him, and it is not an option for any of them, either.

Masen leads and inspires and Bella's heart flutters, hope surging through her veins. What was once a bleak situation has turned into inspiration. Masen, who is not particularly verbose or, she can admit, charismatic by nature, has managed to invigorate all of his employees.

When they file out of the conference room, each of them ready to tackle their projects head-on, Bella stops Masen with a hand on his arm. "I'm helping too," she says firmly, not allowing any room for argument.

Masen's eyes soften. "Obviously," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Report to Alistair."

Bella nods in determination. She doesn't like the idea of this Denali company just throwing their weight around like this - just like she doesn't appreciate the newfound knowledge that it was _James Denali_, aka Relentless, who must have been behind Alice's harrowing internship experience. That kind of attitude, that entitled sense that they can do whatever they want and get away with it, churns away in her stomach. No, she doesn't like it. Not one bit. This, if anything, is another negative tally, another point of proof.

These Denalis are not a good sort of people.

Bella looks forward to being part of proving them wrong - _all_ of them. It isn't so easy to conquer other people. It's about time the Denalis learned this lesson.

* * *

**Piping Hot Tea (Group Chat)**

Sleep Talker  
Can someone bring me clothes?  
And my charger?  
Toiletries  
Tampons  
My sour stash?

Paparazzi  
The fuck is happening?  
Are you bunking down for the apocalypse?  
Also why aren't you back yet?  
You missed dinner

Sleep Talker  
Something's happened at MS  
New deadline  
Nobody is going home

Paparazzi  
Is he holding you hostage!?

Thorny  
Hush babe don't be dramatic  
I just heard about it too  
Those Denali fuckers!

Short Cake  
What happened?  
I don't understand

Thorny  
I'll fill you in later  
How is Emmett doing?

Sleep Talker  
(Picture Attachment: Emmett scowling  
at a computer screen, hunched over a keyboard)

Thorny  
Poor man  
Alright  
I'll bring your things over

Sleep Talker  
You can't distract him

Thorny  
I won't  
Promise

Paparazzi  
Why do I feel like we're sending you off to war?

Sleep Talker  
It kind of is one  
A business war  
And the other side is cheating

Paparazzi  
Fuckers  
So you're just not coming back?

Sleep Talker  
Not until my part is done

Short Cake  
I already miss you 3

Sleep Talker  
We're still doing Friendsgiving on Thursday  
That hasn't changed  
Half of us are just going to be sleep deprived

Paparazzi  
What else is new?

Short Cake  
Don't worry about a thing!  
I'll take over the arrangements!

Sleep Talker  
Thanks Ali

Thorny  
I've got your stuff  
Be over in 20

Sleep Talker  
Thank you!

Paparazzi  
Make sure you sleep  
I'm serious

Sleep Talker  
I will  
Everything will be fine

* * *

Everything is fine. Everything is totally, one hundred percent fine. People are tired and falling asleep at their desks and Peter has been reduced to whining every time Masen circles the room to check everyone's progress, but things are fine.

It's only been a day, though, and she can see the signs of weariness setting in. It's Friday night and nobody has left the office building in a full twenty-four hours, with the exception of Rose, who sashayed in and out with her brows raised high and a whispered, "Are you sure?" to Bella. Bella had, of course, nodded and doubled-down on her decision to stay at Midnight Sun until the demo was done, hell or high water with a streak of infamous Swan tenacity.

But like she said - she can see the wear already setting in, and she doesn't think it bodes well for the project. It's clear to Bella that some of these men need sleep more than others and that some are thriving off the stress. But there are just as many who aren't, who are beginning to flag only in these early hours.

The fact that there are apartments upstairs is something of a boon for the heads of the departments and for Bella, who has been invited to stay in Masen's loft both to sleep and to take care of Atari. But there are at least twenty other men here who do not have beds and she can't imagine that sleeping on the lobby couches is in any way sustainable, especially since there are only two. Obviously, sleeping at their computers is also not an option.

Bella frowns, saving her work, stretching her arms up until her spine crackles, trying to turn the problem over in her head. Twenty men all committed to not going home, all committed to fighting for the company, and none of them have a place to sleep. And sleep is important if they want to produce good work. The state of things is, very simply, not tenable.

It doesn't look like anyone else is going to do anything about it, though. She's not sure the problem has occurred to anyone other than Garrett, who had told Peter blank-faced that they would be sharing an apartment for the next two weeks. It's too bad that solution doesn't work for everyone else, because Bella has seen the apartments upstairs, and while she figures at least two people can squeeze into a bed and a third on the couch, that still leaves over ten men without beds. Even rotating sleeping schedules isn't something that would work seamlessly - too many projects require cross-department collaboration, which means everyone in the building is signing up for the Einstein sleeping pattern of napping until the work is done. There's so much to do that it's the only realistic answer if the demo is going to meet the right quality standards.

Somebody has to do something, and it might as well be Bella. She's only an intern. The amount of work she has to finalize is negligible. For the most part, she is being tapped to fill in the gaps, the finalize details, rather than the larger project she had been working on before. Alistair has taken over her character design interface to smooth down the rough edges and make it feel more "complete", which really leaves Bella to comb through all of the animations and fix any obvious mistakes. But she has a feeling it won't be long until other little projects will be coming her way, because by now it's obvious that she has _some_ experience with software programming given her double-major. She expects something from Peter in the next day or so, the same way Liam has grimly resigned himself to the same fate.

Given all of that - if Bella is going to do anything to fix this sleeping issue before it turns into a big problem, then she should do it now. So, with that in mind, she slips off to Masen's office, stifling a yawn behind her fist before she enters, knocking on the door.

Masen is behind his desk, fingers flying across the keyboard with an expression of intense focus. She has only the vaguest idea of the project he's working on - something about optimizing the speed performance so the CPU usage doesn't crash the entire program, which he has some experience with thanks to _Menagerie_. She waits until he looks up and registers her presence before she enters the office properly, and when she does, she rounds the desk with determination.

"They need to sleep somewhere," she says frankly. "And not in a way that has them rotating beds upstairs. It won't work."

Masen stares at her for a moment and it seems the problem genuinely hadn't occurred to him. How atypical. He's brilliant in every other aspect except, somehow, this. He must truly be consumed - concerned - by this new deadline. The corners of his lips turn down for a fraction of a second, and then he is opening the lone drawer of his desk and pulling out his buttery grey leather wallet and handing it to her.

"Fix it," he says simply.

Her eyes widen as she accepts the wallet. "I didn't - Masen, you can't just give me your wallet."

"Mm."

She feels a wave of incredulity. "Seriously?"

He nods.

Bella sighs. "I'm not sure about this…"

"Take care of them," he says, nodding again. "We need you."

Bella can easily fill in the words he doesn't say - the company needs Bella to be practical right now because as the only one who has noticed the problem, she's basically volunteering her services. Fine. It makes sense anyway. She had originally thought to bring the problem up to Masen and he would solve it, but he wants _her_ to solve it.

She can do that.

Bella leans over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and marches out of the office with a renewed sense of purpose. Admittedly, with only her hands-on learning and the importance of this demo, there isn't much Bella can do. She already knows this; she is fully prepared to take care of the little final details of whatever work comes across her desk. But in reality, this probably means she's the only one with the time to arrange for other things - and she doesn't think that it's just because she's a woman, because Masen isn't like that and neither are the others. This is a matter of convenience. The fact that she noticed it at all might be because she's a woman, or because she has a more sensible head on her shoulders. Whatever the reason, it doesn't matter. There's a problem, or a growing one, and Bella needs to fix it.

She goes upstairs, letting herself into Masen's loft, Atari immediately greeting her as he winds around her ankles with a warm purr. "Hello to you too," she says pleasantly, kneeling down to scoop him up so she can nuzzle at his head. She sighs against his fur. "What am I going to do, huh? How should I solve this?"

Atari nips at her chin and she giggles.

It's really a simple problem, isn't it? The boys don't have beds; she just needs to find some. And, while she's at it, it probably would help to get some food into them. Nobody has eaten anything except for the kitchen snacks for the past day, so she should arrange for food, too.

Bella checks the clock. It's just past six in the evening, which isn't ideal for deliveries, but she's almost certain she can make it work. Somehow.

Bella spends the next twenty minutes hunting down the inventory at the nearby stores, trying to figure out something that works better than sleeping bags on the uncomfortable floors. The answer comes in the form of blow-up air mattresses, which she can pick up at the supermarket she catches a Lyft to. At the supermarket, she buys all six of the air mattresses (some of them a double) on the shelves, throws in enough fleece blankets for everyone, and discounted pillows. Then she steers her overloaded cart through the snack aisle, tossing in a little bit of everything, and then two cases of water because staying hydrated is _important_. After she checks out, while she's waiting for her Lyft to pick her up, she places a McDonald's order on UberEats, because it's cheap and filling and she has a lot of stomachs to feel. She pays with everything with Masen's card, which she hopes is for company expenses because she just spent...quite a bit of money in one go.

But then again - it's Masen. He wouldn't have given her his wallet, with no stated limits, without knowing that she would be charging it up. It's fine.

Back at the office, Bella spends the next hour unloading and sorting the food, pushing around the furniture to make space on the second floor common area and the office lobby so she can set up the air mattresses. Between all of that, she accepts the food delivery and sets everything up in the kitchen, keeping back a combo meal for herself and Masen before she calls everyone over for dinner. While the others are sorting through the food, Bella goes back to Masen's office, placing his wallet and his food on his desk.

Masen takes the food, tearing into it with an eagerness she hasn't seen before, but nudges the wallet back in her direction.

Her brows fly up. "You want me to keep it?"

Masen nods around a mouth of food.

"Masen."

"Bella."

"I can't just keep your wallet."

"You can," he insists. He nods his chin to the wide space outside of his office. "We'll still need to eat after this."

That, Bella has to concede, is a good point. And that's how Bella becomes the master of Masen's credit card for the next several days. While everyone else is toiling away on the demo or crashing in exhaustion, and while Bella is not currently wrapped up in one mini-project or another, she becomes in charge of putting three square meals a day in the hungry stomachs of her coworkers. It's not fancy food and it's probably not healthy, but it keeps everyone going. She even gets a better idea of what everyone's preferences are, so by the time Wednesday rolls around, she can easily go around and drop food off at the appropriate desks without second-guessing her choices. For the most part, when the boys have food in front of them, they do a pretty good job of feeding themselves.

Masen is a bit of an exception. She can tell that he's working more than everyone else, mostly because he is sleeping less - even less than Garrett, who she has only seen take twenty-minute naps every few hours. The fact that he doesn't sleep as much as he should is almost as worrying as the way he lets his food sit on his desk, untouched, for hours. The third time it happens, Bella huffs at him and stands at his side, feeding him by hand so he doesn't have to stop working. And when he's done, she tugs on his ear a bit, a silent censure for worrying her so much. Masen will catch her hand and kiss her knuckles, but she can see that his mind is somewhere else.

One time, Peter and Emmett catch her in the act, and true to form, they both open their mouths to say, "Ahhhh," as if she would feed them by hand too.

Bella chases them out by throwing ice chips after them, her face red, and when she looks at Masen, he has a half-smile on his face, most of his attention returned to his work. Had it been any other day, she thinks he might have teased her about being so flustered.

She sees the dark circles under his eyes and decides not to press.

But all that work is worth something because by Wednesday, the hardest part of the demo work is done - that big chunk of work that would have taken weeks to finish is mostly done. There's still a lot more work to do, of course, but Midnight Sun is in a good position. They're well within reach of their goal.

If Bella catches Masen and Garrett backing up the demo - and then backing up the backup - then she doesn't say anything about it. She has an urge to back up the demo, too, given the fishiness Denali has stirred into the pot. As far as she's concerned, the more backups, the better.

When Bella goes to sleep on Wednesday night, it's after she bullies Masen into bed with her. He seems to humor her, pulling her into his arms and not breathing a word about the way Atari perches on his pillow, tail flicking him in the nose.

And in the back of her mind, beyond the sliver of relief that Midnight Sun is going to be okay, that the demo will be done on time, is the idea that she would be okay if this was her life in the future - if she could go to sleep with Masen every night, that would be good.

It would be really good.

It would be good, so of course, her mother has to swoop in to try to tell her how very not-good it would be. Sometimes, Bella thinks that Renee must have a sixth sense because it almost seems that she only reaches out to contact Bella when Bella is feeling especially happy.

But that's not fair. Renee always calls on Thanksgiving. It's just that sometimes, Bella wishes she would just forget. She fears this might make her a bad daughter but she isn't sure what to do about it. Her relationship with Renee isn't good and she has no desire to put the effort into fixing it when her mother seems to willfully ignore everything about Bella that makes her _Bella_. There surely isn't a fix for that.

So it's with no small amount of dread that Bella dutifully answers Renee's early morning call on Thursday. She's glad that Masen is in the shower because she has no control over the way her expression contorts when Renee actually brings him up. After the usual small talk, Renee lets it slip that she's heard about Masen through the grapevine - and she certainly has _opinions _about it.

"Are you getting serious about this boy?" comes Renee's tinny voice through the phone.

"I am," Bella answers, simple and honest while she strokes down Atari's back.

"You shouldn't be so hasty. Young love is fine, but it doesn't last, believe me. And honey, I know he has his own little company, but you know how startups are," Renee says baldly, while internally any hope Bella had that this would be a good conversation wilts. "And you know how men are."

Bella stiffens. Her tone is chilly when she responds, not that Renee seems to notice. "No, I don't know how men are, or startups for that matter. Why don't you enlighten me?"

"Oh, darling," Renee sighs, as if Bella is being silly and short-sighted. "You know startups are doomed to fail, don't you? Most of them don't make it, especially those technology companies of yours. Not everyone is Steve Jobs!"

_But Masen could be_, Bella thinks silently. Masen Cullen could be the next Steve Jobs, or the next Mark Zuckerburg, or the next Elon Musk. He could be, in a year or so. Midnight Sun is still so new, not even nine months old, but it's already had such rapid success. And Bella has software on her computer that Masen developed as an undergrad, software that she and countless others have bought and used, and she fully believes that this is proof enough that success is something Masen can effortlessly attach to his name.

Renee is still talking, though, as flighty and thoughtless as ever. "-and you know men never remember their first wives, right? Successful young men always have so many women vying for them. You'd be better going for an established man if you want to-"

"I don't want an established man. I want Masen," Bella cuts in, terse. Her seldom-seen temper is flaring, a calm lake about to surge with a storm. "And maybe men would remember their first wives if their first wives bothered to stick around," she adds icily, a pointed jab.

Renee gasps. "Isabella! That's not fair -"

Bella doesn't want to hear about _fairness_, not from this near-stranger she happens to share DNA with, someone who gave up _everything important_ for the promise of money and an easy life. Bella doesn't even know what husband Renee is on, anymore, and it doesn't matter. It stopped mattering so long ago.

"You know what? I have to go," Bella says, tone sharp. "Happy Thanksgiving, Mom."

And then she hangs up, jabbing her thumb on the screen of her phone and then tossing it aside with a great sigh. From her lap, Atari squirms and mews up at her, confused. Bella pats at his head, trying to relax the hard press of her lips. She shouldn't let Renee get to her, but it can be so hard. She's never been able to relate to that amount of self-serving selfishness, and she's glad for it, but at the same time, it makes it so difficult to feel like Renee is actually her mother. Sue is twice the mother Renee has ever been to Bella. She doesn't know what her dad was thinking when he married Renee right out of high school. The two are entirely incompatible.

A hand settles on top of her head, startling her out of her thoughts. Masen is leaning over the back of the couch, his brow knit in concern as he strokes his hand down the back of her head, settling at the nape of her neck - not unlike how she pets Atari, actually. It's comforting.

"Okay?" he asks.

He's fresh from the shower, a towel around his waist, and his chest bare. A drop of water clings to his skin from where it falls off his hair, rolling down planes of smooth, pale skin. But for all that others might be tempted to stare and lust, Bella simply finds her gaze drawn to his, basking in the softness of his grey-green gaze - a softness that is reserved only for her.

"I'm fine," Bella says tiredly. "It's just my mom. I don't talk to her much, you know? Mostly because when I do, she ends up writing off my life choices, or pushing me to embrace hers. But I don't want to be like Renee."

_I don't want to flit from one rich man to another, always in search of another easy chapter in my life_, Bella thinks. What she really wants is to leave her mark on the world of gaming and be with Masen - preferably at the same time. She thinks these are simple ambitions. She wants them more than anything.

"I see." Masen pauses, seeming to weigh his words. "Family can be...difficult."

Bella lifts her brows. Masen doesn't talk about his family much, aside from Carlisle and his parents. She knows his background, knows that he's adopted and that there is some tension between him and his adoptive grandfather, but Masen is mostly tight-lipped about it. She has the sense that he doesn't want to talk about it, not because it hurts, but because he places little importance on things that he can't change. Most of what Bella knows about his family is what she has pieced together from the little he does say and what Esme has told her directly. So, that Masen is offering up anything is, to Bella, significant. He's trying to comfort her in his own way. It's sweet.

She smiles up at him, soft and slight. "At least I don't have to see her," she says.

"Mm," he agrees. "If only we were all so lucky."

Bella blinks. "You're visiting family? I thought Carlisle was coming to our Friendsgiving?"

"He is," Masen confirms. "But the family is gathering tonight, too. It's an obligation neither of us can get out of."

This is news to Bella and she can't quite mask her surprise. "Are you inviting me?"

Masen shakes his head, pulling away and straightening the towel around his waist. "I wouldn't do that to you," he says, perfectly serious but with a curl of his lips that betray his mirth.

Bella laughs, surprised.

Masen lifts a brow.

"Everyone says you don't have a sense of humor," she teases.

Masen rolls his eyes. "Peter," he grouses, a curl to his lip.

"Peter," Bella agrees. She shifts onto her knees, draping herself over the back of the couch. Atari leaps off her lap as she moves, scuttling off to get up to do cat-things. "So, does that mean you're ducking out of our lunch-dinner thing early?" she asks, raising her voice a bit as Masen disappears into his room to rummage around his closet.

"Mm-hmm."

"Is Esme going?" she asks.

"Carlisle wouldn't do that to Esme, either," Masen tells her.

Well, then. Looks like Bella might have underestimated the tension in the Cullen family. Anne and Thomas are agreeable people, she knows, so the true culprit must be the grandfather. How unpleasant can one man be if the blood-related grandson won't even bring his _fiance_? That's...significant, isn't it? Significantly concerning.

"Do you really have to go?" Bella asks, fretting over it when Masen emerges from the bedroom, adjusting the supple leather belt on his crisp, dark-wash jeans.

His deep green sweater, already pushed up his forearms, brings out the green in his eyes, which study her carefully from across the room. "You're worried," he realizes. "You don't have to be. It's only a few hours."

"I can't help but worry," she tells him, solemn even as she pouts. "That's just how it is when you love someone."

Masen, soft for only her, comes closer to kiss her forehead. He doesn't say the words back, but he doesn't need to. His every movement, his every touch, his every look, is proof enough.

Bella tilts her head up, silently asking for another kiss, and Masen presses one softly against her lips, a warm lingering touch that does a lot to soothe her concerns.

If Masen isn't worried, then neither should Bella be.

* * *

Carlisle  
You could stay home  
I can just go  
It won't be a big deal

Masen  
You need my support

Carlisle  
I'm the older brother here  
You don't have to protect me

Masen  
Not protecting  
Supporting

Carlisle  
Our parents will be there

Masen  
To keep the peace  
Not to support you

Carlisle  
I hate that it's true  
Okay fine  
But I'm driving

Masen  
(read at 2:11 PM)

* * *

Midnight Sun is the largest gathering place anyone can think of to host a so-called Friendsgiving, a practice Masen can scarcely believe he's participating in. Bella's friend Alice had come over earlier than anyone else, rousing Bella from well-deserved slumber so she and Bella could shuffle around the office to make room for three card tables all pushed together and covered with thematically-appropriate linens. Masen, who spent most of the morning in his office trying to finalize other pieces of the demo to prepare for the next day's work, had been a witness to watching Bella talk her friend down from actually cooking anything. Bella, who is clearly tired and equally as unlikely to let it show, had advocated for microwaving anything that got cold from the delivery, which her friend agreed to after realizing that, in fact, none of their friends can actually cook - except for Garrett, who has been barred from his food truck by both Bella and Peter because he needs a break, too.

Masen had, of course, been the unfortunate witness to Peter's wheedling. Peter had called Garrett _Chef _in a way that Masen is uncomfortably aware was meant to be sexual. It's fortunate that Garrett isn't cooking today for that reason alone, because if he was, then he (and Peter) would be in a kitchen and not within hearing distance of anyone else.

As it is, by the time everyone has gathered at Midnight Sun around four in the afternoon, the room is too chaotic and loud to hear much of anything at all, inappropriate or not. Masen stands apart from the room, observing the cacophony of laughter and noise permeating the space just as richly as the food Rose and Emmett are unpacking from the half-dozen restaurants they have been to. While Rose and Alice bicker over food placement, Leah swings by to push the food into the center of the table, calling for people to eat as she plucks a chicken drumstick from a plate and hands it to Alistair, who sighs in resignation. Meanwhile, Bella is directing Carlisle and Esme into seats and then comes back for Masen, tucking her hands around his elbow to pull him into a chair. Once everyone is seated, an assortment of food is passed around, and the variety is unlike anything that Masen has ever seen on a single table at one time.

Bella must catch the incredulity of his stare because she giggles and leans into his space. "We couldn't decide what to get because we're all used to eating different traditional meals," she explains. "Like, while Alice, Jasper, and Emmett all usually have turkey, Leah and I typically have Sue's baked salmon, and Rose's family does Cornish hens. Peter demanded ham, but I'm not sure if it was for him or Garrett. Alistair, obviously, doesn't have a tradition, but we did manage to hunt down a bakery that makes treacle tart."

Considering the explanation, the amount of food makes sense. "Thoughtful," he surmises.

Bella smiles and spoons three different potato dishes onto his plate, her brows lifted almost in challenge. He returns the favor with two of the nearest dishes, dishing them conservatively beside her fish, and then tucks into his own food, narrowly dodging the sweet bread roll Peter is tossing onto plates from his perch in Garrett's lap.

It's certainly not a traditional Thanksgiving, but it is, he thinks, warmer than any Thanksgiving in his memory. By the somewhat dazed expression on Carlisle's face, Masen has the sense that he agrees.

Friendsgiving, indeed.

When the dinner portion ends, it's a race between Alice and Peter as to who can bring the pies to the table the quickest, even as Bella, Alistair, and Esme sensibly work to tuck food into containers. Emmett hefts himself up to dig out the hard cider he's been hoarding for the last week, nudging Garrett into helping him pass glasses around.

Both Carlisle and Masen decline. Both of them need to be sober for any family dinner; this has been a well-established fact since Carlisle could legally drink, and Masen had followed in his footsteps.

Masen is once again astounded by the sheer amount of food Bella can pack away. Even though she's one of the slightest people in the room, she easily matches Emmett plate-for-plate - but it's still disarming to witness.

"Which pie do you want?" she asks from his elbow, looking at him expectantly.

Masen is very full. He couldn't possibly eat another bite comfortably. "Apple," he answers anyway. It's not like he expects to eat much, if anything, at the Cullen Thanksgiving. He can make room.

Fortunately, Bella passes him a modest slice. This does not, however, do anything to detract from the muted sense of horror-stricken awe he sees when she finishes carving a slice from each of the pies on the table - pumpkin, pecan, apple, cherry, strawberry rhubarb, berry, and treacle tart. Granted, they are slivers of each and together would make three traditionally-sized pieces, but all the same. It is. Quite a lot.

"I see you looking, Masen, and I hate to be the one to tell you this, but this isn't even a true measure of how much Bella can eat," Leah says from across the table.

"Oohh, it's true," Alice giggles. "I remember last year, she ate that entire Dutch apple in one sitting."

"Be fair," Bella rebukes them, without an ounce of shame. "It was a miniature pie."

"Yeah, but a miniature pie is still a whole pie," Rose points out.

"At most, it was basically half a pie," Bella tries to downplay. "And it wasn't like anyone was going to miss it."

Leah snorts into her drink. "Except for the dining hall staff, who were very, very confused."

"Wait, that was you guys?" Peter interjects with glee. And now that Peter says it, Masen does vaguely recall some hiccup among the staff of the dining hall near Robel Hall last year, something that had spread across the campus quietly but that had caused enough confusion Peter had spent days reading the campus discussion board conspiracy theories about it.

Masen casts his Bella a side-long glance, wondering at her mischief.

"Don't blame me for that," Bella chides, rapping her fork against the plate. "You're the one who stole -"

"I _smuggled it_, don't make it sound illegal -"

"-the pie for me and dared me to eat it," Bella continues blithely. "I was just proving you wrong."

Alice laughs. "You did win that bet! That's right!"

Rose rolls her eyes. "For anyone confused, Leah made a bet that Bella couldn't possibly eat that little pie in under five minutes. Bella obviously won, because she's clearly missed her calling as a competitive food eater."

"What was on the line?" Carlisle asks curiously, eating his own pie much more sedately than everyone else at the table, Masen included.

Rose sighs. "I don't even know. Was it bragging rights?"

"No," Bella answers, turning a gimlet eye to her sister. "It was a bet about the truth."

"Here we go," Leah mutters.

"If I won, Leah would finally tell me what happened to my Nintendo DS, and if I lost, I would have to let it go," Bella tells them all, with the air of someone who has been very wronged. "But even though I won, Leah still insists she has no idea what happened to it."

"It's been fifteen years!" Leah says with exasperation. "Let it go!"

"I just want to know what happened to it," Bella argues.

"I told you before," Leah says. "I didn't touch the damn thing."

Bella squints at her, clearly disbelieving. "Uh-huh. Just like you don't know who keeps nominating me for that ridiculous contest."

"Oh, my _God_," Leah mutters. "The level of mistrust is amazing!"

Down the table, Esme laughs. "I wish all of my family fights were so lighthearted."

Masen and Carlisle exchange a glance, one full of silent agreement.

"Someday," Rose says, taking a swig of hard cider after she pushes her plate toward Emmett. She looks up at the ceiling, greatly put-upon. "Someday, I will be able to have a Thanksgiving dinner with you two without hearing about this dumb Nintendo thing."

"I'm never going to let it go," Bella vows, sounding very serious. Masen is greatly amused to see her holding onto something this much, particularly because he has seen her brush off actual slights against her reputation with very little concern. He has never pegged her for someone to hold a grudge, and he thinks mostly she is just teasing because there's a twinkle in her eyes that belies her mirth.

"I will throw something at you," Leah threatens across the table.

Bella sticks her tongue out.

The rest of the gathering passes in a similar vein, with funny stories being shared around the table. The only unfortunate thing is that Masen and Carlisle have to leave while the merrymaking is still happening - but there's no putting off the family Thanksgiving, no matter how much they each want to avoid it, albeit for different reasons. If not for Carlisle's intended announcement and the support he'll surely need on the way home, Masen wouldn't be going at all. But his brother needs him and Carlisle has never let him stand alone, so Masen will not let him stand alone either.

Masen parts from the Friendsgiving after a lingering kiss from Bella and a promise that she'll be waiting for him to come home. He holds that thrilling feeling that she calls his place _home_ deep inside as Carlisle drives them up to San Francisco.

Traffic is a bit thicker than they anticipate, so they arrive just shy of 7:30, which both is and isn't ideal. They've missed the pre-dinner drinks, but that means they'll also have to sit down immediately without any time to make Carlisle's announcement before dinner, and that means Carlisle will have to wait until after dinner is finished, for the sake of manners and politeness.

"It's going to be fine," Carlisle says, straightening the collar of his shirt beneath his sweater as they stand in front of the door. He breathes out heavily twice, psyching himself up, and then rings the doorbell.

Masen follows him inside.

The dinner starts out fine, or as fine as it ever would be in the face of Grandfather Cullen and his snide remarks made under his breath. Thomas and Anne chat politely, keeping the topics light and neutral - no politics, no religion, no details about personal future plans. It doesn't leave much to talk about, so dinner is quiet and as dry as the turkey that is served by the maids. Masen picks at the food on his plate and keeps his head down, determined to make it through this dinner with no trouble.

It is, as always, too much to hope for.

"Carlisle. I've heard from the board members that you haven't been to the company very much recently," Grandfather Cullen says as the second course is being served.

Carlisle tenses. "I have been present as much as I can be, Grandfather," he says quietly.

Grandfather Cullen harrumphs. "It's that hospital nonsense that has you distracted, isn't it? Boy, when will you grow tired of playing doctor and take up your responsibilities as the heir of this business?"

"Father," Thomas tries, clearly seeing the discomfort spreading across Carlisle's face. "Maybe now isn't the time."

"Well, if not now, then when?" Grandfather Cullen demands. "This is a matter of the Cullen legacy. It was fine if he wanted to play doctor when he was younger, but the boy is almost thirty. It's time to stop playing around, Carlisle."

Carlisle clears his throat and glances at Masen.

Masen blinks at him, placid. If not now, then when, indeed?

"I have been meaning to talk to you all about this, actually," Carlisle starts cautiously. "I know this will probably come as a disappointment, but I have accepted a permanent residency post at my hospital, and I'm afraid I won't be able to -"

"Absolutely not," Grandfather Cullen says harshly. "You are not giving up the family business to fix sniffles and scraped knees."

"Father-"

"Being a physician has been my dream since I was young," Carlisle says, talking over Thomas with a frown. "I don't have a head for business. I would run the company into the ground."

"Nonsense. Thomas just has to teach you better," Grandfather Cullen insists. "You are the heir. You will take over the family business. I won't hear another word about it."

Grandfather Cullen speaks as he always does, which is to say he speaks as if nobody would ever dare disagree with him. And maybe on another day or about a different issue, this would be true. But today, for Carlisle, there is no option to meekly accept Grandfather Cullen's decree.

For the first time in Masen's entire life, he watches his brother's cool composure crumble to pieces.

"If you want someone to take over the family business," Carlisle begins tersely, snapping his butter knife down onto the table with a sharp _clack_. "Then you're looking at the wrong grandson. I have no interest in running the company. I'm going to be a doctor - a surgeon! If the business has to stay in the family, then it will be fine in Masen's hands."

"Absurd," Grandfather Cullen shouts, throwing his napkin down. "Absolutely absurd! That cretin isn't fit to lick my shoes, let alone sit at the head of the board-"

"He's more fit than you are!" Carlisle says loudly. "Have you seen how successful he is? He's built his company into an overnight success from the ground up, without any help from the family, and he's done it all in spite of you!"

Grandfather Cullen laughs meanly and goes on to say something else, but Carlisle hasn't finished.

"And it's more than anyone can say for _you_!" he adds, standing from his seat. "You were handed the company from your father, just like Dad! A silver spoon has been in your mouth since birth! You've never worked for anything because it's all been handed to you - but you sit here, holier-than-thou, and look down on the only person in this family who found greatness from the scraps you _deigned_ to let him have!"

"You-!" Grandfather Cullen blusters, red in the face.

"Me!" Carlisle agrees, holding his arms out. "Me, _one_ of your grandsons! That's right! I am Carlisle Cullen, the heir you chose, and I _reject_ your so-called gift. I'm going to be Carlisle Cullen, trauma surgeon, husband of Esme, and proud brother. In fact," Carlisle tacks on, looking upon the way Grandfather Cullen chokes on his outrage with a smug air. "I'm going to give my shares of the company to Masen!"

Masen's grip on his fork slackens and his eyes widen, even as Grandfather Cullen sputters and Thomas chides at the both of them for making a scene. Masen, very abruptly, feels young - like he first did when the Cullens took him in and Carlisle was his only shepherd. He looks at his big brother with the same wide eyes as yesteryear, back when Carlisle had all the answers and the confidence to make them work. Before years of Grandfather Cullen's erosive abuse put the thought into Masen's head that he had to rely on only himself.

"Carlisle?"

Carlisle's arms drop to his sides, his shoulders loose and relaxed. He looks - _free_ \- as he smiles, the gold of his hair limned by the crystal chandelier. "Masen," Carlisle returns.

Masen studies his brother carefully and comes to the conclusion that he's been thinking about the company shares for a while. "What have you done?" he demands, low and shocked.

"Talked to a lawyer," Carlisle answers calmly. Ignoring the incensed glare Grandfather Cullen drills into the side of his head, Carlisle sits back down at the table, straightens the napkin on his lap, and picks his butterknife back up. He continues to relay his news with the same peaceable tone as he butters his roll, as if he isn't dropping the equivalent of a nuclear bomb on the entire family. "Actually, Esme's roommate Kebi has a boyfriend, Amun, who happens to specialize in corporate law. I talked to him, oh, about a month ago -"

"A month!" Grandfather Cullen thunders.

"-and showed him the contract stating my shares of Cullen Enterprises. According to the contract, I'm free to write my claim of their control over to anyone I choose, particularly the ones that were gifted to me after I graduated, which are not part of my family shares," Carlisle informs the room, now smearing fresh cranberry sauce onto the roll. "Amun has already written up an agreement, Masen, that would give you power over my shares. By our count, that would be, oh, 23% of the company, and given the number of people on the board and the number of shares Dad and Grandfather have, that would make you an official ruling member of the board. In other words, you would become a de facto owner through me, for as long as I choose to give you power over those shares. And make no mistake," he says, even more seriously as he stares at Masen with unflinching blue eyes. "I don't intend to ever revoke this gift. I was saving it for Christmas, though. Sorry you found out this way."

Masen is speechless. He had never - not even once - entertained the idea that Carlisle would give up the shares of the company to him - or even the control of those shares. It had never occurred to him as an option. He had always assumed that Carlisle would eventually choose medicine over the family business, but he never thought Carlisle would do it in such a radical way. At most, he thought his brother would simply insist on taking a silent role and not be part of day-to-day operations.

But Carlisle has done this. He has been radical.

"You ungrateful swine!" Grandfather Cullen spits. He slams his hand down on the table, hard enough all of the ceramic and glass shakes. "And you!" he shouts, stabbing a finger at Masen. "You loathsome leech! How dare you orchestrate this farce! I will never - never - accept you, you gutter rat! You are a stain on this family! A stain! And now you are a thief-!"

Grandfather Cullen's hand closes around the crystal glass of his favorite Scotch - and just like when Masen was young, Grandfather Cullen lifts the glass as if to throw it - and Masen is braced for it, the scar on his cheek throbbing in a phantom reminder - but it never comes.

"That is enough," Anne Cullen says coldly, removing the glass from Grandfather Cullen's hand and tossing it aside carelessly. When she got up and moved to the other side of the table is anyone's guess. She stands in front of Grandfather Cullen, managing to look down her nose at him even though he stands so much taller. "I have heard enough from you for a lifetime," she tells him, shaking her head. "Naturally, you must be disappointed that Carlisle has chosen another path, but to blame his brother for his choices?"

"That worm is not his brother!" Grandfather Cullen bristles.

"They are brothers!" Anne says hotly. "They have been brothers for ten years, they will be brothers for ten more, and they will be brothers for ten more after that. They are brothers and I have had enough of you trying to tear my children apart!"

"Thomas," Grandfather Cullen barks, turning away. "Get your woman under control! I won't hear this nonsense in my house!"

Thomas Cullen, however, is staring at his family, still sitting at his place in the dining room. He looks a little lost, looking between his wife and his children, and Masen thinks he might just sit there forever, trying to reconcile how the night had gone so off-kilter so quickly, but then Thomas frowns. He looks very much like Carlisle when he stands, placing his napkin over his food, something in the steadiness of his gaze as he turns, shoulders strong, to face Grandfather Cullen's seething expression.

"I'm sorry, Father," Thomas says sedately.

Grandfather Cullen scoffs under his breath. "You should be," he hisses. "This family of yours - so shameful! So disrespectful-"

"I'm sorry that I've let you go on this long," Thomas cuts in, shaking his head slowly. "This is my fault. As your son, I should have stepped in a long time ago and helped you adjust your way of thinking. I'm sorry to have failed you so badly that you believe you can get away with shouting abuse at both of my sons and my wife on what should be a peaceful family holiday. I have failed you, as a son, for not correcting your behavior toward my youngest boy. I have been...shamefully reticent to say anything, because of Mother's passing, but enough is enough. This can't go on any longer."

For the third time in a single night, Masen finds himself staring at a member of his own family with surprise. He never thought Thomas would stand up to Grandfather Cullen - not this way, not so boldly, not when his usual method was to redirect the conversation and hope that Grandfather Cullen would be less of a bastard if he was suitably distracted. But this - this is a red line, isn't it?

Masen swallows back the feelings trying to crawl over him.

"You!" Grandfather Cullen says angrily.

And like Carlisle earlier, Thomas just nods. "Me," he agrees.

"Get out! Get out, all of you!" Grandfather Cullen shouts.

Thomas Cullen sighs as his father storms out of the dining room. They all listen to a door slam across the house - Grandfather Cullen's den, most likely - and then they exchange weighted stares. Thomas is the first one to speak. "I should apologize to you all, as well," he says with a frown. "Especially to you, Masen. As your father, I have done you a disservice all these years. I...suppose I was hoping he would grow out of his baseless anger, but I was wrong. I should have fought for you the way Carlisle has. And Carlisle - I'm so sorry that you have been put in this position, and that you have been forced to make a choice at all. And Anne…"

"You can tell me I was right later," Anne says softly, coming around behind Masen and Carlisle to squeeze her arms around their shoulders. "For now, why don't we have a family dinner elsewhere?"

"But where?" Carlisle says. "It's Thanksgiving day. Surely there are no restaurants open…?"

Anne pats the top of his head. "Silly boy. I know my sons very well, and my husband, too. I've had reservations placed for two months, just in case. We're a little late, of course, but we can still make it."

Thomas laughs, startles, and Carlisle appears frankly gobsmacked. Masen's lips twitch, a not-so-private smile that lasts throughout their hastily revised dinner at one of San Francisco's lauded fusion restaurants. Like Carlisle, Masen has a sense of being free, somehow. The hurts of childhood are all still there, of course, but now they have dulled to something manageable, now they have a balm he can live with.

This lightweight feeling persists all through the drive home and beyond, even as he walks past the office space in Midnight Sun that will be consumed by their marathon work in the morning. It isn't until he's in the loft and sees Bella waiting for him, that cat perched in her lap, that it all truly comes crashing down - the shock of it all settling and reverberating and restoring his entire world order.

Bella stands and asks him how the dinner goes, but all Masen can do is shake his head and wrap his arms around her, pulling her close for the comfort of it and breathing in the scent of her shampoo. Between them, a shuttered breath escapes him and her small hands slip between his shoulders, rubbing comfortingly down the length of his spine.

"It's okay," she says, again and again.

Masen hadn't even realized he was shaking, or that a traitorous tear or two had escaped him. He lets himself hide away in the comfort of Bella's arms as the rest of his world realigns itself and settles into a new shape.

It's going to be okay. Masen actually believes it this time.

* * *

**A/N: Update 3 of 3! You made it to the end! Writing the last half of this chapter was cathartic, but I still lowkey wanted to give Grandfather Cullen a stroke. He's such an asshole! Anyway, I don't think I have any relevant chapter notes for this one, since everything is pretty self-explanatory. Google Friendsgiving if you don't know what it is!**

In other news, it looks like we might be seeing vaccines sooner than anyone thought - or at least, we might be seeing vaccines sooner for priority people. Now, who are priority people? There are two categories that we need, as a society, to make sure receive these safe vaccines first; healthcare workers at every level, including janitorial staff at hospitals, and farmers and food industry workers, specifically those who harvest food and work in factories (especially since these workers are already underpaid and underappreciated and are at higher risk more than most). After these two categories of people are taken care of, then we can rest assured that our collective society can continue to survive. From them, the next are high-risk people, such as those with disabilities, cancer, and chronic illness, regardless of age, and the family members who live with them (as well as the family members who live with healthcare workers and food industry workers). Then average healthy people are next in line. In other words, politicians and celebrities should not come first. Right now, our celebrities are the essential front-line workers that have kept us going, and they fully deserve the vaccines first and foremost. The rest of us will get by until late summer/early fall in 2021, which is probably when distribution will reach most everyone else. I encourage everyone to keep up on the news about the Moderna and Pfizer vaccines in particular since they seem the most promising, and to remember that even if this vaccine requires two shots, then there is already precedent for that (shingles vaccines, for example, require two doses).

We're nearing the end, folks. So stay safe, keep making smart choices, and don't let up the vigilance. We're all tired of the shutdowns and the lockdowns and the quarantines - but we all need to be strong. To get through it, look from the big picture to the small one - instead of dreading the next X amount of months, just make your goal bite-size to get through the next hour or the next day or the next week. We've already gotten this far. Now is not the time for a collective fuck up that will kill millions, rather than thousands.

**The next update should be December 12, 2020. **

**~Rae**


	75. chapter 31

**[chapter 31]**

"Holy shit," Peter breathes, his under-breath tone just barely audible over the _hiss_ of the automatic glass doors sliding open and shut as they enter the Volturi building. "This place is huge."

Peter isn't wrong. Volturi occupies one of the larger buildings in San Francisco, a high-towered glass monstrosity gilded in black metal and sleek, neon-laced tech. Even inside, the lobby continues this aesthetic with black marble and chrome lighting fixtures, all of it cold and aloof and much larger than life. The Volturi logo, a proud V motif, has displayed onto most visible surfaces, and most prominently as a large neon red sign hanging over the back of the reception desk, which is bracketed by two elevators.

There is a low, muffled sound, and then Peter's voice whining, "_Don't hit me, you dick_."

"Then be cool for once in your life," Emmett bites back, also under his breath.

Alistair sighs audibly.

Masen leads them forward to the receptionist sitting behind the tall black desk. She is filing her nails, which are just as red as the Volturi motif, and looks up at the group with polite interest. After walking Masen through signing Midnight Sun in and clicking around on her computer, surely to announce their arrival to receptionists higher in the building, she directs Masen and his small group to wait in the lobby.

Masen thanks her, turns to his friends with a pointed tilt of his chin, and leads them to the half-circle cluster of couches sitting below an LCD TV playing clips of Dawn of Warcraft player logs.

But Midnight Sun is not the only group waiting in the lobby - Denali is there, as well, and leading their helm is James.

The last time Masen saw James was right after Masen watched the low-kindling outrage spread across James' hawkish face at the revelation of who exactly Masen was. At the time, Masen felt the abrupt reveal of his gaming handle was an adequate way to handle the situation - and to put certain people in their place for staring at Bella as if she was nothing more than a pretty object to be collected and lusted over. Masen had been pointed in his announcement and had shamelessly directed his handle to James for the sole purpose of angering the trust-fund lout who considered himself capable of capturing Bella's attention. And it worked - although, perhaps it had worked too well, considering the strings Denali had pulled to get Volturi to change the demo deadline.

But even taking Masen's well-earned chastisement into consideration, he can't find that he regrets making his stand. James is not the type of opponent who can be approached with gilded weapons, after all, and he has more than proven that he is willing to eschew both ethics and common decency to reach his goals. First, with the video contest; second, with being involved in the guild manipulation; and now, with moving the demo deadline up by four weeks, even at the potential detriment of his own company.

And at this thought, Masen has to seriously consider whether or not Denali is being overconfident, or whether Masen has underestimated them. Because, from where he's standing, he can't imagine making such a risky move with the deadline without being entirely certain that he would win. In fact, had Midnight Sun completed their demo earlier, Masen might have considered making a similar move.

Would Denali truly produce something better than Masen's own team? Or was Denali writing Midnight Sun off as serious competition and banking on the fact that, even if Midnight Sun produced greater content, their demo would be incomplete and ultimately unappealing to Volturi?

It's hard to say. Masen isn't a man prone to making bets, but even if he were, he doesn't know which way to gamble. He's only certain that one of these possibilities _must_ be true.

These are all the thoughts on Masen's mind as he comes face to face with James in the expansive Volturi lobby only minutes before their joint meeting is supposed to start. They are each backed by their own group, although James' group is notably older and more conservative than the people at Masen's back, who are thrumming with nervous energy and youthful excitement. Not for the first time, Masen thinks that James taking over the Volturi project is a poor move on Denali's part, and not only because James has no experience in any development until now - the move is also poor because the people under James will surely chafe at being bossed around by a young person who, until a month ago, was mostly a figurehead at Denali Corp.

Masen doesn't have this problem, of course. All of his employees are also his classmates or his friends or even people he met through gaming. They are all more or less on the same playing field, and sharing the same level has allowed them to better share ideas. Regardless of how any of this turns out, Masen can be at ease knowing Midnight Sun truly collaborated on their efforts and that every person in his company is happy with the demo. Judging by the weary expressions of the Denali employees, Masen isn't sure James or Eleazar Denali can say the same.

Of course, he's also sure that they don't _care_. It's always about the profit margin for people like that, as Masen knows very well.

"Masen Cullen," James greets with a slick smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "This is your team, I suppose."

Masen lets his eyes pointedly gloss over the dozen people standing at James' back. "Mm. We're a small business."

"Rookies, I hear," James says, rocking back on his heels with a faux nonchalant air.

"Sure," Masen agrees easily, ignoring the way Peter sputters behind him. "Of course, being a rookie is only measured by time - not success. And both our companies are rookies compared to Volturi."

Masen refrains, very thinly, from pointing out the fact that, in terms of sale success, Denali is at the bottom of the ladder compared to both Volturi and Midnight Sun - because even as _rookies_, Midnight Sun has been outperforming Denali's latest release by a two-to-one margin.

He thinks his point is conveyed through his overly polite tone, however, judging by the way James presses his lips together briefly. And in predictable retaliation, James brings up the one other thing they have in common.

"I was great seeing Bella the other night," James goads. "I always knew Swansong would be gorgeous in person. True looker, that one. Did she have a good time with me - with our group, I mean?"

Masen briefly wonders if James _truly_ believes Bella would have found any source of joy in his presence and quickly decides that James, even as arrogant as he is, isn't that blind. The insinuation is made purely for Masen's benefit, as if Masen wouldn't be able to see through something as thinly-veiled as that.

"She didn't," Masen says simply, and silently reconsiders the assessment that he has underestimated Denali. The entire company is full of self-entitled, over-confident leaders, and there is no conceivable way that people with that mindset would be able to produce anything worthy of competing with Midnight Sun.

There is a brief flash of joy when, once again, James visibly reacts to Masen's cutting tone. He's too easy, and that alone tells Masen more than anything else ever could.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to endure speaking with James anymore, as the receptionist eagerly calls their teams to the elevator. "The Volturi's are ready for you. Thirty-third-floor conference room. Good luck!"

Each team takes separate elevators, the Denali team considerably more squished than Masen's group. The ride up the elevator is spent smoothing out suit jackets and ties, Emmett doing breathing exercises while Alistair stares out into space with an air of resignation. Peter cracks all of his knuckles and fiddles with the zipper of his laptop case.

"Follow the plan," Masen reminds them as the elevator stops. He smooths his own tie before he steps off the elevator, calling on every ounce of business decorum he has ever cultivated to hold himself high and aloof. He has no intention of leaving this building without that contract, not after the miracle his entire team just pulled to get the demo completed.

The conference room is oblong and dimly-lighted, a ceiling projector already displaying the Volturi motif on the far-end of the room. Both teams sit down on opposite ends at the table, leaving the three chairs at the helm for their yet-to-arrive hosts. Both Masen and James sit closest to the head of the table. Beside Masen is Emmett, then Alistair and Peter, who is busy pulling out Masen's laptop and getting everything connected. Someone on James' side of the table does the same.

The three heads of the Volturi company don't keep them waiting for long. As soon as Aro Volturi, a compact man with round eyes and a sharp nose, eases into the conference room, everyone is on their feet. There is a lot of hand-shaking and introductions, and Masen calmly notes the warmth with which Caius Volturi greets the Denali team and sniffs dismissively at Midnight Sun. Marcus, who towers over his brothers, is reticent but kind, and Aro himself appears almost giddy.

"Let's be seated," he encourages. "Now, now. Who wants to go first? Should we toss a coin?"

Caius snorts. "It obviously makes the most sense to go alphabetically," he says with apathy, and that's how it's decided that Denali Corps will present their demo first.

Masen thought this would happen - he was almost certain, actually, and so he isn't bothered that he will get to see the fruits of Denali's labor first. The Denali demo isn't _bad_, exactly, but it isn't inspired, either. It is in the truest sense a sequel to Dawn of Warcraft - the same artistry, the same quest advancement, the same everything, except for the fact that it's set in a different time period and location.

Masen isn't impressed, and that's not even a biased opinion.

He doesn't think Marcus is impressed, either, and by the end of the Denali presentation, even Aro's effusive enthusiasm seems to be thinning. Caius looks just as bored as he had when he walked into the room.

James doesn't seem to notice at all, still as smug as ever as he sits back down in his seat. Masen's sharp eyes note the weary looks of his team, who look more nervous as Aro Volturi turns to Masen expectantly.

Masen stands, taking the time to smooth the line of his suit jacket before he rounds the conference table. Peter is ready with their demo presentation and nods at Masen.

And then Peter frowns, tapping at the laptop. He looks up at Masen with veiled panic. "Uh…"

James shifts, eyes glinting as he looks up at Masen, and Masen feels something in him settle in resignation. He doesn't let it show on his face, though, even as the Volturis start to look impatient and confused.

"Trouble?" James asks, seemingly innocent. He frowns as if in concern. "Is it the server? We didn't have any trouble with our demo. Could it be the configuration of your connection?"

"It is, actually," Peter mutters.

"The server appears to be down," Masen answers blandly.

James leans back, shaking his head sadly. "What a shame that is. I guess that means -"

"Peter, connect to the mirror server," Masen says, cutting James off and relishing, once again, at the bitter expression on his hawkish face.

"Oh, right!" Peter exclaims, clacking the keyboard. "I forgot about the mirror server. Good job, boss!"

Aro Volturi, who had been watching this byplay with the same air as someone watching a live theater performance, lifts both brows. "A mirror server, you say? Here?"

"Midnight Sun believes in preparing for every possibility, no matter how remote. We configured a mirror server for the eventuality that the main server might be down. The Volturi IT department helped us set it up. These are the server details, should you wish to look at it before we move on with our demo," Masen says, smooth and calm. He passes over a small stack of paper unearthed from Peter's bag, all the documents with their recorded interactions with Volturi IT on proud display.

Aro Volturi smiles in delight, flipping through the pages with shining eyes. "I do love contingency plans," he tells them, scooting the paper's over the Caius, who curls his lip and shoves the papers across to Marcus, who neatens the pile. Aro gestures his hand. "Go on with the demo. I'm very excited now!"

Masen slides his eyes to Peter, who gives him a wide-eyed look of affirmation, and then Masen nods, just once. And then Peter taps the spacebar and the projector screen lights up with the frankly dazzling display Alistair and Liam spent the last three days creating - and as far as introductions go, it's one hell of a flex for what the rest of the demonstration will be.

Masen is careful to stay out of the direct path of the demo, taking his time to speak at length about each of the highlights that have been included, making sure no detail is missed. Having just seen Denali's demo, Masen can tell that there are several degrees of difference in the quality of each demo - and judging by the faces in the room, it's perfectly clear which team is coming out on top.

Masen calls on his years of remaining straight-faced in every circumstance, but inside - deep inside - he is smirking. He can already taste the victory and knows exactly how sweet it will be.

On the projector screen, Peter is carefully clicking through the character builder interface as Masen speaks. "Our team felt strongly that representation should matter, so we have taken a different approach to character building. In addition to more gender options, we have introduced new skin textures and colors, as well as more control over body characteristics. Now, it's possible for avatars to have one eye or even one hand," he says, and Peter clicks through the appropriate options to illustrate the point.

"That would significantly change gameplay," Marcus Volturi announces, expression keen.

"It would," Masen agrees simply. "Which is why we called in experts for better perspective at every level. For example, we consulted with a Marine amputee who oversees local Palo Alto police training to understand how a character with one leg might cover challenging terrain the same way as another character would." Masen pauses, letting that sink in as Peter begins to scroll through the armor and outfit options that had managed to be included, even in spite of the tight deadline. "Our expert advice guided much of our decision making, actually. In avatar design, we consulted with a student studying historical fashion to understand the clothing design that would be most authentic for each culture we've represented in the game."

"Yes, I noticed that. You seem to be inspired by more than European history," Aro observes with excitement. "Could you tell us why?"

"Our aim was to represent people from every major culture of historical significance in the middle-age and feudal eras. Each culture has a rich history to draw from, both in terms of real historical events and mythologies that can be leveraged to create novel quests," Masen replies. "There is much more we wanted to add, but, as you know, time ran out. There was only so much we could incorporate. We are, of course, prepared to supply you with our further plans, should you wish to see them."

"I do!" Aro says eagerly, and Emmett passes a slim binder across the table.

From there, the demo walks through other aspects of gameplay that Midnight Sun worked so hard to put together. Masen spends a great deal of time talking about their expanded life models that will give intelligence to NPCs, as well as other types of gameplay to appeal to other audiences - including horse and chariot racing, farming and life-simulation, and quests appropriate for children under age 18.

And when Caius Volturi sourly points out that interfaces this sophisticated would surely slow down CPUs and make it nearly impossible for simple PCs to download the game, which would limit the true audience appeal for DOW2, Masen is able to easily reply that they had dealt with a similar issue for _Menagerie_ \- and that it had been solved by a similar optimization program he had personally written. At that point, Alistair nudges Peter and Peter quickly pulls up the data logging how much CPU is being eaten up by running the demo, even at the full capacity of the multiple-player fight simulation.

"Remarkable," Aro breathes when he sees that the CPU is barely even catching at 40 percent.

"All computer systems on the market, including those older than five years, should be perfectly capable of running our game," Masen reiterates. He nods to the slim binder in front of Aro. "That is also included in our data set projections, along with other statistical data of significance."

Masen ends the Midnight Sun demo shortly thereafter, sincerely thanking Volturi for allowing Midnight Sun to be part of the process, and then he sits down, meeting James' infuriated gaze with cool disinterest.

"Well," Aro says, clapping his hands together. "My brothers and I have much to discuss, it seems. If you would give us a few moments…?"

Midnight Sun and Denali all troop out to the large lobby outside of the conference room, each group taking a clear side of the room. Masen's group settles into a close huddle, trading whispered observations and, in Peter's case, fidgeting delight. Masen is confident in what decision is currently being made in the conference room, but Alistair has some skepticism.

"Caius was working with them," he reminds them under his breath. "Denali has a clear in."

Emmett shakes his head. "But did you see Marcus and Aro? I mean, Marcus actually came to life when we were talking about Bella's character interface."

Alistair presses his lips together, but Masen thinks Emmett is right. Even beyond the obvious quality of each demo, the fact of the matter is that Midnight Sun brought more to the table - innovation and creativity and enough new content avenues to draw countless more players to the Dawn of Warcraft franchise.

So it comes as less than a surprise when, half an hour later, Aro leads his brothers out of the conference room and thanks to both teams for participating in the demo - only to turn to Midnight Sun to say, "On behalf of Volturi, I can say this honestly: we are thrilled and honored to work with young minds like yours. We hope to make Dawn of Warcraft: Pangea our most successful release yet, and we believe you can help make that happen. Congratulations, Midnight Sun. Expect a courier with our contract in the next week."

Aro holds out his hand and Masen gives it a firm shake. "Thank you for this chance, sir. We won't let you down."

Aro laughs and claps Masen on the shoulder. "I know you won't!"

The Denali team are, of course, crestfallen - and none more so than James, who is alternating between looks of true dismay, disappointment, and concealed frustration. Masen thinks that a man who calls himself Relentless is not one who copes well with loss, and it clearly shows. James tries to catch Caius's eye, but all Caius Volturi does is sneer and roll his eyes, the first one of the Volturi to leave.

When Aro and Marcus have also departed, Masen turns his steady eyes to James. He lifts his chin and offers the first branch. "It was a good competition," he acknowledges.

James compresses his lips and seems to swallow his ego back. "Congratulations," he spits, and then turns on his heel to stomp to the elevator. The rest of Denali give more sincere well-wishes and follow after their infuriated boss, who could not win even after he tried to cheat.

Midnight Sun boards their own elevator, Emmett and Peter practically vibrating in excitement. It's fortunate that they manage to wait until they are outside of the Volturi building before whooping and hollering, dragging Alistair and Masen into an impromptu group hug. Peter might be crying and even Alistair is laughing.

Masen spares a wide, cheek-splitting grin.

They did it.

* * *

Volturi Official **ʘthevolturi  
**We are pleased to announce our new partnership with the upcoming DOW sequel, Dawn of Warcraft: Pangea. Welcome to the team, ATmidnightsungroup #VolturiAtMidnight #DOW2

Gamma Gamer **ʘhulkthis**  
HOLY SHIT Y'ALL! MIDNIGHT SUN DID IT!

Dennis Ren **ʘitsnotalwayssunny**  
Dude! Right! I'm so fucking! Stoked! Holy! Father! God! #DOW2

OKAY THAT'S DOPE **ʘnintendude**  
That feeling when your favorite damn gaming company partners up with your other favorite damn gaming company and your mind explodes #VolturiAtMidnight

Game Informer **ʘgameinformer**  
Volturi Inc., the creators of Dawn of Warcraft, have finally announced their official partnership with the DOW follow-up, rumored to be released in 2022. Volturi has chosen Midnight Sun, the minds behind cult-favorite and viral mobile games like Pagan Immortals and Menagerie, as the creative runners for Dawn of Warcraft: Pangea. We, and the rest of the internet, can't wait for DOW2! #VolturiAtMidnight #DOW2

* * *

It's two days before the news hits media outlets, and after that, it explodes across every corner of the gaming internet. Bella can't scroll on Twitter, poke around Twitch, or brave the DOW forums or chats without hearing about the excitement of gamers, many of whom seem to be ready-made Midnight Sun fans. Not that she can blame them. Even without her bias, she can admit that Midnight Sun is one of the more promising game developers in the last several years - and she is so, so excited that she gets to be part of it. She isn't sure yet what her role will be, considering how much effort is going to be needed to build a game of DOW size and she is still going to be in school for the next year and a half, at the least, but she fully intends to be involved.

When she tells Masen, he kisses her until she's breathless. And then they make each other breathless for other reasons. She thinks, based on his enthusiasm, that he's pretty excited about the announcement, too. And he should be - Masen, maybe more than anyone, worked so hard to win that contract.

In celebration, Masen gives the entire company two paid weeks off for the upcoming Christmas break on top of a spontaneous three-day weekend. To his employees, Masen claims that this is to rest-up before they get involved in the gritty work of collaborating with Volturi's game development team, but everyone can see through it. He's making a nice gesture as a reward, acknowledging that everyone more than deserves some time off.

And while Bella is so very happy about it all, the announcement only reminds her - abruptly - that she will also be going away for Christmas break, which seems to be looming closer than she thought. It's like during the marathon of building the demo, time was moving at a glacial pace, and now that it's over, time is zooming right along, faster than the speed of light.

Already in the week following the announcement, Volturi has sent over contract after contract - some formalizing the partnership, others securing NDAs for all the Midnight Sun employees. Meetings in January have already been scheduled in advance, with Volturi booking out an entire day once a week for the Midnight Sun collaboration in person to stay on top of the game progress. In the age of the internet, almost everything can be done remotely, but Marcus Volturi clearly intends to be involved from the bottom up and Masen seems keen to make that happen.

Bella is glad - so glad - but it's also all happening so fast. Between that and her semester rapidly coming to a close, Bella can't help but feel a little frantic. She's not the only one, of course. Alice has been so frazzled she placed double orders on Amazon and had to spend three days sending Christmas presents back, and Rose has gotten her intense study face on, glaring at anyone who makes more than a _meep_ after dinner, and Leah is cycling through groaning at her video editing software and silently snarling at her textbooks.

It's the end of the year. People always tend to unravel, just a little bit. Bella is no exception, even if her unraveling is subtler than her dorm mates.

So it's with this in mind that Bella is summarily glad to be invited to Peter's version of a Christmas party, just only a week before finals - and before Bella and Leah board a plane back to Washington for Christmas. Peter sends his invites via text, one to the Midnight Sunners group and others to individual invitees; Bella learns about the party through her work-related group text _and_ from Leah, who has a direct invite from Peter himself, which has been extended to Rose and Alice for good measure.

There is very little hesitation on their part. If not for Peter's Christmas party, then they would all be stuck cramming, and that's clearly not a viable option given how much studying they've already done.

"If I look at my books anymore, I'll go cross-eyed, and not in a fun way," Rose mutters, and the rest of them agree.

Given that it's a Peter-planned party, none of them feel the need to dress up. And to be perfectly frank, it's December in Palo Alto and decidedly _cold_, so jeans, sweatpants, and college-branded hoodies are all in order that Friday night. Jasper is the one who escorts them to Midnight Sun, invited by Alice with the sheepish explanation that it would be one of the last times she and Jasper would see each other before the winter break. Bella doesn't mind. Now that Jasper has gotten a clue and seems to treat Alice like the tender-hearted debutant she is, she likes him well enough. He's quiet, which is honestly a nice breath of fresh air compared to the relative chaos of most of the other men she knows - not that she would trade that boisterousness for the world, of course, but her point still stands.

The Uber drops them off in front of the Midnight Sun building and they all climb out, Bella huddling into Leah's slightly taller frame for warmth. Bella takes a moment to appreciate the sight of this building and its bright neon sign before her eyes shift to a flurry of movement through the glass doors. If she isn't mistaken, it looks like Charles is chasing Liam around with one of those creepy Elf on the Shelf dolls while Liam throws popcorn at him.

She's glad she won't be clearing _that_ up tonight.

"Should we have brought somethin'?" Jasper wonders, looking at Alice with wide eyes behind his slim glasses. New frames, if Bella isn't mistaken. "Beer, maybe?"

"Ah, kid," Rose says, patting Jasper's shoulder. "You're still so young, so I'll forgive it -"

"I'm a year younger…"

"-But you have to learn this lesson sooner or later. No matter what that Southern upbringing tells you, you never ever bring beer to a party unless it's a BYOB. And it's not."

"Also, don't volunteer for the beer run," Leah advises, and Bella knows that she is speaking from experience from over the summer. "You're better off mooching just like everyone else."

Jasper frowns. "That doesn't seem right…"

Alice pats his chest. "Just believe them, honey. It's good advice."

Jasper looks a little dubious still, but it doesn't prevent him from being carted through the door and submerged into the unfettered noise of the Midnight Sun office.

Bella, knowing exactly what this building is _supposed_ to look like, has to hand it to Peter - he's done a fine job making this into every gamer's ideal party space, with three large-screen projectors hooked up to different gaming systems and a smorgasbord of munchies piled up in the kitchen. She notes with some amusement that there's barely anything Christmas-related here, except for the absurdly-sized candy canes Peter and Emmett are sparing with or the sour-cream sugar cookies topped with red and green frosting placed haphazardly on a plate. If she had anything to compare it to, she would think that Peter had done his best to marry the idea of a LAN party and a Chuck E. Cheeses.

It looks very fun.

Rose immediately goes off to find Emmett, while Alice ushers Jasper toward the first familiar-looking face she finds. This leaves Bella and Leah together, connected by hooked elbows.

Leah looks down at her, takes in the excitement on Bella's face, and says, "Lead on, geek."

Bella does. The first thing she does is scope out the gaming systems, noting that Peter has wrangled the best multiplayer console games from history, specifically the ones that inspire the most competition. Dance Dance Revolution is surprisingly popular among the Midnight Sun group, although Bella can already tell that _Video Killed the Radio Star _was going to be stuck in her head for days.

Naturally, however, Bella's attention is eventually drawn to wherever Masen is. She finds him sitting elbow-to-elbow with Alistair in front of a projector screen that zooms around a familiar race track. Catching him from the side, Masen's profile is set into one of peaceful concentration, even as he fights to win the Mario Kart race against Alistair. She finds herself grinning, even as Leah pokes at her cheek.

"You're so gross," Leah tells you. "All in love and stuff."

Bella shrugs. "That's okay. I don't mind being gross."

"Ugh."

"We share hopes and dreams," Bella says cheerfully.

"Yuck."

"We even own a cat together. We co-parent," Bella adds, catching sight of Atari, who has ventured downstairs and bee-lines to Bella, tripping up no less than four of her fellow employees before he winds around her ankles. She untangles her arm from Leah and bends down to old Atari against her chest. "Meet your nephew," she announces brightly.

Leah shakes her head. "Disgusting," she says, but her tone is light and she pets Atari eagerly, making a dumb face that he mimics, both of their mouths opening wide. "This is a cool cat," Leah decides. "Way better than Pistachio."

Bella clicks her tongue. "You can't compare Pistachio to Atari," she says. "One is a dog and the other is the world's cutest cat."

"You're not biased at all."

"Of course not."

"For the record," Leah starts, rolling her eyes. "You and Seth are both awful at naming things. Please, for the love of God, do not name your children. I can just see you calling a kid Nintendo or something."

Bella gasps, feigning offense. "I would _never_." She pauses. "Not as a first name, anyway. Maybe a middle name?"

"No!"

"I'm kidding!" she laughs. Mostly. She's mostly kidding.

Maybe Leah is right. Masen can name their kids, then. If they have any kids, that is. If they get married, actually. If they're together for long enough that marriage seems like a good idea, obviously, although she can't imagine that not being the case.

Leah nudges Bella with her elbow. "Hey, hey, what just happened? On the screen? Is Al winning?"

Bella blinks and focuses back on the Mario Kart match, her brows lifting. "He could win," she tells her sister. "He just blue-shelled Masen and Masen wasn't quick enough to avoid it."

"Nice," Leah praises, moving to elbow her way closer to the screen. She raises her voice to be heard over the background music and the general noise of the rest of the room. "I want to play next!"

Bella laughs into Atari's warm fur. Leah, who has never played a game in her life and who spent the entirety of her teenagedom mocking the La Push boys for playing on these same consoles, is going to play a game. She must really like Alistair to go through that much effort to connect with him on his level. She's glad. They're a unique pair, but it somehow works - _however_ it works, in whatever capacity they are serving each other, it seems like a good match.

Bella takes a moment to look around and really appreciate where she is, the moment she is in, how far she has come in such a short span of time. Has it really only been eight months since Master Cullen reached out to Swansong? And look at where they are.

She almost can't believe it. But then again, what doubt can she have when Masen immediately comes to greet her after his graceful loss to Alistair? Masen, who wraps her in a warm hug, Atari squished between them, and gives her a slow, lingering kiss of greeting. Masen, who tucks the wisps of her hair behind her ear, his green-grey eyes tender just for her, the slight uptick of his mouth a sign of happiness reserved solely for her observation. Masen, who perceives her so well and who makes her feel so very safe and secure, even in this place where they are surrounded by their friends and their success and a startling amount of sheer joy.

What doubt can she ever have in these circumstances?

Bella grins up at Masen, even as Atari climbs onto Masen's shoulder, hanging halfway over his back, little back feet scrambling against Masen's collarbone. Masen reaches up to steady the kitten, who turns his head back and nips at Masen's fingers.

"I can't believe you lost," she teases him.

Masen sighs, though she isn't sure if the long-suffering exhale is for her or the cat. Both, she thinks. "He did blue-shell me."

"I saw it," Bella giggles. "Did you want me to avenge you?"

Masen lifts a brow.

"I could," she says confidently.

"Mm."

Peter, who is passing by with a bowl of what appears to be some form of nachos, skids to a stop and shakes his head. "Hey, wait, no. That's not fair. You can't just unleash Swansong on anyone you want to!"

"It's just Mario Kart," Bella says, surprised by Peter's vehemence.

Peter shakes his head. "Nuh-uh. It is _not_ just Mario Kart. It's a Mario Kart _tournament_ and we're playing on teams. And teams mean that we already separated the best players fairly before you got here, which means any team you get onto will have an unfair advantage." Peter stops and jabs an accusing, cheese-dusted finger at Masen, who stares back as languidly as Atari. "You can't just bring in a ringer, Boss."

"I'm hardly a ringer," Bella protests. She gestures to where Leah is now being installed in one of the seats. "And look at that! My sister gets to play."

"That's because we all know she's probably as shitty as Kyle from accounting," Peter says seriously. "Masen gets Kyle as a handicap, and we apparently get Leah."

Bella gapes. "But I want to play!"

Peter shakes his head. "You're a ringer, Swan. No ringers allowed."

Bella huffs at him, then looks up to Masen, who is staring back with the same kind of placid calm that practically says, _He's dumb but he has a point_. Bella purses her lips and looks around the room, and when her eyes catch on an equally stone-faced man dressed in black, she makes a victorious _ha_ sound.

"What about Garrett? Is he on any teams?" she asks pointedly.

Peter, very suddenly, looks skittish. "Uh. Well, that is…"

"K.O. is a ringer, too," Masen intones.

Bella lifts her chin. "Alright then. I'll just play against Garrett. Surely a ringer against a ringer is fair, right?"

Peter pulls a face. "First, Masen insists on being Luigi, and now the ringers are going toe-to-toe. What is the world coming to?"

Bella laughs and calls across the room. "Hey, Garrett! Next game? You, me, and Rainbow Road?"

Half the room, including most of those paying attention to the Mario Kart race between Leah and poor Kyle, which is exactly as hilarious as Peter made it out to be, turns to wait for Garrett's reaction. When he nods and starts to make his way over from the kitchen, the rest of the room drops their remotes and converges on the Mario Kart area.

Bella smiles sweetly at Peter, boldly reaching out to snag one of his nachos. "Thanks for helping me arrange this."

"Damn you," Peter mutters.

Even Masen smiles a bit at that.

To the surprise of many, Leah ends up winning her round against Kyle by a hair, which leaves room for Bella to take her seat. She and Garrett sit together and scroll through the character choices. Bella, by habit, selects Princess Peach, because she likes pink and also because Princess Peach is traditionally one of the best characters to play. Garrett, on the other hand, selects Wario, the character with the most technical advantages.

It's been a few years since the last time Bella played Mario Kart, but that's not really a skill set one loses. She feels no hesitance at all when the screen materializes onto Rainbow Road, even if the most notoriously difficult track makes everyone else giggle nervously.

"Good luck," she says to Garrett as the timer ticks down from three - and then when the screen flashes with _Go!_, Bella hits the throttle and pulls out every dirty, underhanded, full-powered trick she ever used to beat the La Push boys.

Garrett does the same. Bella won't lie, the game is incredibly close. Like Alistair, Garrett has no problem leaving behind blue shells for Bella to run into - but Bella had prepared for that, and uses the layout of the track to the best of her ability. Her main strategy is to corner Garrett on the turns and turf him out, hopefully make him spin out if she's lucky. There are three laps for the entire race, and they spend the entire first two trading between first and second place. On the third lap, Bella takes advantage of the computer-generated racers and blue-shells Toad, who was just to the side of Garrett's Wario. She does this close enough to the finish that Garrett, who did not see the indirect coming or have a chance to dodge it, doesn't have enough time to recover.

When Princess Peach crosses the finish line, Bella jumps up with a great cheer, followed by most of the room. Smiling widely, Bella turns to thank Garrett for the game, and Garrett shrugs, smirking a little.

"You tried so hard, babe," Peter says comfortingly, taking the controller from Garrett and navigating back to the start screen of the entire game. "It's okay, we'll just start the tournament again and recreate the teams and - Hey. Why are you looking at me like that?"

The room falls quiet, taken by the startled tone in Peter's voice. It's quiet enough that they can all hear Garrett's whisper-quiet voice when he says, "Pettishcoat."

Peter blinks rapidly. "Eh?"

Wordlessly, Garrett points at the save-file Peter is accessing, which is clearly labeled as _Pettishcoat_, a name that rings a dim bell for Bella and, probably, few others in the room, judging by the looks of bewildered concentration.

"Well, yeah. Pettishcoat," Peter confirms, his confusion easily turning into babbling as Garrett seems to just _stare_ at him, intent as ever. "That was the handle I used in high school. Or it was until, like, I changed it. Obviously, I changed it. There's actually a funny story behind that, haha. See, there was this game, Phantasy Star Online 2, that I was super into, but all the male avatars were kind of lame, so I made a female one instead and named it Pettishcoat…"

Garrett is still staring at him, along with half the room. Peter clears his throat nervously.

"A-and, well, see the thing is, I made a friend called Kobax, and he was cool and we did a bunch of quests together, but then this thing happened and -" Petter stops and shrugs, scratching at the back of his neck. "I mean, I feel kind of bad about it, you know, because Kobax and I were so close, but things got a little weird and - I mean, weird for 16 is _weird_, okay? So I...bailed. Closed my account and…"

Someone in the crowd whistles lowly.

"You are Pettishcoat," Garrett says, or maybe confirms.

Peter nods, looking a little confused, still, about why his old high school handle is of such importance.

Garrett exhales. "I am Kobax."

There is a collective inhale as the group gasps, and Peter blushes up to the roots of his hair. "Oh, shit," he says, laughing weakly. "Uhm. Sorry?"

Nobody is the least bit surprised when Garrett bodily slings Peter over his shoulder and straight-up leaves the building, although they do spend a few minutes trading half-worried glances.

"Should we, like, do something about that?"

"Is it kidnapping?"

"Peter isn't a kid, he's just an idiot."

"I mean, it's true…"

"I'm not worried."

"I didn't say you were!"

Bella bites her lip and looks up at Masen, who still holds Atari patiently. And then she narrows her eyes at Masen's sheer calm, the only one in the room who wasn't the least bit surprised. "You knew!" she accuses.

"Mm."

Bella starts laughing hysterically. Of course, Masen knew - of course he did. God, can the man keep a secret! Well, if Masen knew and he still didn't step in to reveal, then Bella isn't going to be worried about whatever is going on with Peter and Garrett.

She pulls herself together for long enough to organize new teams for Mario Kart, and for the Dance Dance Revolution competition that is becoming surprisingly cut-throat, and then spends the rest of the night enjoying herself with her friends. When Peter and Garrett return a few hours later, disheveled and carrying boxes of cupcakes, Bella surmises all is good.

All is good in her world. And it's nice.

* * *

Jane  
So, you're welcome

Bella  
?

Jane  
Oh so I really do have to spell it out  
How are you so smart in gaming  
But not in scheming?

Bella  
Some of us don't want to scheme  
What scheme are you talking about?

Jane  
Oh, just the one where you t  
otally need to thank me

Bella  
Thank you

Jane  
You don't even know what for yet!

Bella  
Then tell me!

Jane  
Lol  
Okay so it all starts at the guild dinner  
I'm sure you recall

Bella  
Yes, it was very uncomfortable  
I won't thank you for that,  
if that's what this is about

Jane  
Yes you will  
Now hush I'm not done  
As I was saying, I did you a huge favor  
that night!  
Actually, I did you 3!  
Are you ready?

Bella  
Probably not, but go ahead

Jane  
#1  
Queen V and Cherry Lane are now off your back  
Probably because you're actually pretty  
Cherry Lane's ego is wounded  
and Queen V is I think realizing  
that James is a skeeze

Bella  
Well, now that you mention it,  
gaming has been a bit more peaceful…  
When I have the time, that is

Jane  
Right?  
Okay, favor #2 is this:  
Relentless knows you aren't available  
Like, I think he really gets it now!

Bella  
That is a favor  
I will thank you for that one

Jane  
#3 is the fact that the psychological  
damage of Relentless realizing he dumped  
you for a not-that-much-prettier face and  
you ended up with his competition is a huge  
blow to James Denali's ego and that threw him  
off his game enough that he became unreasonably  
competitive and ended up lowering the quality  
of his own demo, which is ultimately why Midnight  
Sun was able to win the Volturi contract

Bella  
...uh  
As psychotically helpful as that is  
I'm not sure how it counts  
as a favor to me, personally  
Also, how do you know so much?

Jane  
It's a favor to you proxy  
of your boyfriend  
Also did I forget to mention I had  
a bet riding on this?  
I told my brother Midnight Sun would win  
so I obviously had to make  
sure that happened.

Bella  
You can scheme this much for a bet  
but an instance dungeon is too difficult

Jane  
Some of us don't have your  
hand-eye coordination

Bella  
Fair enough  
But again  
How do you know so much?  
And why would you be  
betting about this?

Jane  
Oh right  
Did I forget to mention that  
Aro Volturi is my father?  
(Gif Attachment: Darth Vader  
saying "_Luke, I Am Your Father"_)

Bella  
WHAT

Jane  
LOL

* * *

When Jane oh-so-casually let it drop that she happened to be the daughter of one of the brightest minds in the entire gaming industry, Bella had been, in a word, flabbergasted. She'd actually dropped her phone on her face and Leah spent ten minutes laughing at her, even as she held a cold rag to Bella's nose. Leah laughed even harder after Bella explained the bewildering Jane situation.

It's only after Bella's nose stops throbbing and Leah's laughter fades that Bella comes to a dreadful realization. "Oh, my God," she breathes, capturing Leah's attention again.

"What?"

"Did we cheat? Did Jane help us cheat?" Bella asks, worried.

Leah scrunches her face up. "Uh. I don't think manipulating events to put more stress on the competition is _cheating_, exactly…"

The two exchange a look. It's a very fine line, isn't it? For that reason, Bella resolves to clue Masen in as soon as possible, just in case something came up at any of those Volturi meetings in January. Forewarned is forearmed.

But Masen is even more sanguine than Leah. He sees no problem at all, probably because he might have done the same in similar circumstances. Bella, it seems, is surrounded by schemers of all kinds.

"Jane Volturi didn't give us any trade secrets," Masen points out when Bella pouts at him. His eyes are warmed by amusement at her, admittedly, simple outlook. "All she did was do her friend a favor, and that only happened to create a unique circumstance. If James Denali responded poorly to that circumstance, then so be it."

"But still…" Bella insists with a frown.

Masen kisses her forehead. "You don't need to worry. Jane wasn't the only Volturi manipulating events, remember?"

And then Bella does remember the fact that Caius Volturi might have very well deliberately created a chance for the Denali company to win the Volturi contract by moving up the demo deadline so suddenly. In comparison, Jane's scheme seems almost childish, or even casual.

Still. Bella wrinkles her nose. "I don't like all this quid pro quo stuff."

"Mm."

Masen leans back in his desk chair, hands folded across his stomach. His beloved face, still so impassive to everyone else, is alive with microexpressions she has come to understand. He is very amused by her right now.

Bella blows a raspberry at him.

Masen's subtle smirk widens. "How are your finals going?" he asks, changing the topic.

At the very mention of the tests she has been enduring for the past few days, Bella slumps, finding a seat in the cushy chair in front of his desk. "Over, thank God. I took my last test today. My brain is totally fried."

"Too bad."

"Why is that too bad?"

Masen shrugs. "It sounds like you're too tired for donuts."

Bella perks up immediately. "Masen," she says seriously. "There will never be a day where I am too tired for donuts. Where are they?"

Masen's laughter huffs into the room. "Not here. At that bakery you like."

A jolt of warmth shoots down Bella's arms. Masen knows what bakery she likes, just like he knows so many other things about her, now. She wonders if he'll ever know them all, wonders if she'll ever know everything about him. One day, hopefully. It's a nice thought.

"Are you asking me on a date?" she teases.

"Mm."

Bella giggles, stands, holds her hands out to him. "Let's go, then. End-of-quarter donuts are calling my name."

Masen takes her hand, always meeting her in the middle.

They take a few moments to don the necessary winter gear - coats and scarves - and Masen double-checks he has his wallet. The office is quiet as they leave, everyone else already on their long Christmas breaks. Upstairs, the only one around is Peter, since Alistair and Emmett have both already done home for the next week. Tomorrow, Bella and Leah will do the same, and so will Alice and Rose, each off to a different section of the country for the next ten or so days. But the office is so quiet now, with the memory of the marathon demo work still fresh in her mind, is arresting. Midnight Sun is not a place that should be too quiet for too long, she doesn't think. Something about it isn't right.

She's glad when Masen gently tows her out of the building, pulling a beanie hat over her eyes just so she'll huff at him when she fixes it. She mock-glares up at him and he takes a playful step back, relaxed and loose in the shoulders.

_If Masen can be like this, then maybe it's okay for the office to be so quiet_, Bella thinks, the cool of the air making her breath frost on every exhale.

It truly is cold outside, colder than it has been for most of the winter so far. Bella shivers, edging closer to Masen as they mosey the few blocks down to the bakery, which keeps satisfyingly late hours to cater to the nearby college crowd. Bella huddles into her coat, shivering, and Masen makes a low sound, a hum of consideration.

The next thing she knows, Masen is taking his left glove off and handing it to her. Bella takes it without thought, then blinks down at it.

"Put it on," he urges, coming to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

Bella puts the glove on. It's much too large for her, but the inside is still warm from Masen's skin. With the glove on her left hand, Masen weaves their gloved hands together and pointedly puts his bare hand into his left coat pocket.

It takes a second for Bella to get it, and when she does, her cheeks go even pinker. Oh. That's a very sweet gesture, isn't it? Masen has the right glove and Bella has the left, so they can still hold hands as they walk and they can each keep their hands warm. In some ways, it feels like a metaphor for their entire relationship.

It's so nice she could cry about it. Maybe she will when she gets home and she starts to miss him. But going home is still twelve hours away and, for now, it seems like everything is settled - her finals are done, Midnight Sun has the Volturi contract, their friends are happy, and the NorCal server is, for once, without Swansong as gossip fodder.

Things are good. It's a lovely way to end the year.

With that thought in mind, Bella pulls both of them to a stop and, before Masen can question it, she rocks onto her tip-toes and kisses him.

And kisses him and kisses him, because she doesn't have the words right now, but kissing him until they are both kiss-swollen and starry-eyed seems like the best way to tell him what's on her mind, anyway.

Judging by the way Masen looks at her when they part, Bella thinks he understands. She thinks he's trying to say-not-say the same things, too.

Later, after the donuts and after the lingering walk back to the office and after Masen tucks her away into a Lyft - later, Bella comes home to a mostly-quiet dorm room still wearing Masen's glove. She packs it into her luggage with a smile, and thinks one day she'll be taking more of him home than a bracelet and a lone left-handed glove.

Someday.

* * *

**A/N: Someday, indeed! Ah, can you feel the story winding down? Ever so slowly we are getting to the end. I announced on Facebook earlier this week that there are likely only 5 official chapters left and about eight more interlude-type chapters. I'm emotional about it.**

**Anyway! As if there was any question about who was going to get that contract! This chapter was a long time coming and also highly entertaining for me to write.**

**Now, if you didn't already know, Pangea is the Ancient Supercontinent of our lovely planet, back before the continents decided to be in seven pieces. The theories about Pangea are super fascinating - like, it's part of the reason why we find dinosaur fossils in all kinds of unlikely places. Worth a read if you're into geology.**

**Game Informer is a magazine outlet for gamers around the world and generally stays on top of things that make Big News in the gaming world. That Twitter handle is absolutely real - you can fact check me.**

**Phantasy Star Online 2 is a real game and is your standard MMORPG, but it has all these wild quests and a truly astounding amount of classes and is, all told, a pretty sleek game still attracting a loyal fan base even 8 years after its release. I went with this one because in the original Love o2o, the Peter and Garrett characters had first met on a space-based MMORPG, too. So, this detail actually closes up that long mystery of who K.O. was searching for waaaaaaaay at the beginning of the story, only nobody was getting the name Pettishcoat right and so Peter, the loveable idiot, had no idea. And now he does. Oh my. Go easy on him, Garrett. The handle Kobax, for the record, is a reference to a Star Trek star system, and yes, I did pick it because K.O. and KObax mirror each other as well as Pestullent and Pettishcoat.**

I don't think I have any other chapter notes. I do, however, want to express my optimism about the vaccine - and to encourage my American readers that just because we likely won't have access to more of the Pfizer vaccine until next summer, that doesn't mean we will be without a vaccine at all. The Moderna vaccine is currently being purchased by individual states, as well. Be sure to keep up with the news about the vaccine roll-out in your state so you can understand which category you fall into, where you should go to get the vaccine, and other news. Given the way things are going, it doesn't seem like there will be a cohesive federal roll-out for the vaccine, so stay on top of your state news for information. Every state and most counties have a Department of Health, so be sure to subscribe to newsletters and the like. We are almost there, folks.

In other news, did everyone read that study that said wearing masks gives roughly 20% protection to the mask wearer? Now, while a mask protects other people from your germs, it's nice to know that a mask will protect _you_ from a percentage, too. Am I saying we should all double-up on our masks in crowded places like stores? Well, I'm not _not_ saying it. Food for thought! 20% protection got most of us this far, but the spread is also utterly uncontrollable right now, so maybe it's the time to amp up our methods. Just saying!

**As always, be honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay diligent. And I don't care what the CDC says - if it makes me feel better to Lysol the fuck out of my groceries when I bring them home, I'm going to do it for the psychological comfort because my anxiety said so.**

**~Rae**


	76. we're all cheaters, every one of us

**[YouTube]**

We're All Cheaters, Every Last One of Us  
**ClarityIsClear**  
Posted 10 months from now

(The first images of the video are a wide panning shot of a group of people milling around a familiar industrial-type background. Eagle-eyed viewers easily recognize the white-painted brick as the Midnight Sun building, as well as many of the people being caught on camera as they work to set up a game on a table.

There's a lot of beer bottles around, including one in Leah Clearwater's hand as she briefly twists the camera around to face herself. "Hey, everyone. So, I'm drunk and _super_ pleased about it. Summer was great. Life is great. Beer is really, really great. But you know what's also great? Watching these nerds get _so_ worked up about board games."

Here, Leah rolls her eyes, then leans toward the camera, her dark eyes more than a little mirthful. She drops her voice only a smidge. "I mean, I get it with their little video games, but I just watched someone flip a game of _Risk_. Like. Who even does that?" Leah pauses, glances around, and then actually whispers this time. "I'll tell you who did it, guys. It was Al. _My_ Al. Can you believe it? He actually had color in his face for, like, thirty seconds, too. It was so funny."

"I'm standing right here," a brusque British voice says dryly.

Leah pulls back from the frame and captures Alistair on camera where he stands behind her, sneering at the camera. "Oh, I know," Leah says slyly. "I thought I would be passive-aggressive for a bit, just to see how you like it."

Alistair pointedly looks away and Leah cackles. Then the camera turns around to catch the rest of the room, and she zeros the camera in on the poorly packed-away game of Risk, which has been kicked under a desk. Leah laughs louder.

Beside her, off-camera, Alistair can be heard snapping, "Masen cheated! I can be upset about that!"

Leah is quick to contradict him. "I was right there. I didn't see any cheating."

"Maybe you didn't see it," Alistair says darkly. "But it was there.

Meanwhile, a pair of bright eyes and a wide, animated grin steps into the camera. "Hey, hey! Are we talking about how Masen's a cheating cheater who absolutely cheats?" Peter asks, lifting his brows.

"Apparently," Leah says dryly.

Peter claps his hands and rubs them together. "Oh, boy. _Ohhh_, boy, then have I got the scoop for you! Masen has absolutely been a lying, hustling, cheating cheater since the day we met him," he declares loudly, and half the room looks around at the sound of his voice.

Leah's tone slips into one of amusement. "I suppose you have a story to prove your claim?"

"Totally do," Peter confirms.

Masen, who is overseeing the construction of a Battleship board, can be seen visibly sighing from just over Peter's shoulder.

"Listen," Peter starts, tossing his thumb over his shoulder. "You see that guy there? That guy is a hustler. Don't trust him. He looks all innocent and shit, but he isn't."

"Get on with the story," Leah heckles.

"I will!" Peter huffs. "Okay. So, the thing is, back when we all met as tender, stupid little freshmen, we had a little competition to see who would be rooming with who. We had a joint dorm the first year and there were two bedrooms with four guys. Obviously, we wanted to be democratic about it -"

"I seem to remember you trying to verbally deduce that Masen looks like he cleans his room so he would be a killjoy to room with, so you were refusing to room with him," Emmett calls out from behind him.

Peter sucks his teeth, then seems to ignore Emmett. "-and Masen proposed that we have a literal race over it. Winner gets to pick his roommate and the rest of us have to live with it. Only, Masen here neglected to mention that he ran track and played basketball all through high school. And of course, he won, because he's a crafty bastard and he definitely set it up to make me suffer."

"It was fair," Alistair drones off-screen.

Leah snorts from behind the camera. "Uh, how was that fair?"

Peter nods vigorously. "Yeah! It wasn't fair at all!"

"You only had to room with Emmett for one semester," Alistair reminds him.

"And it was the worst semester of my life!" Peter exclaims.

"Gee, thanks," Emmett grumbles, but the rest of the room is laughing.

When the laughter dies down, Leah is the first to make a comment, and although her face can't be seen, the viewers imagine how wry her expression might be. "So, if you know he cheats to win, why do you bother playing against him?"

Peter stomps his foot. "If Bella can win then so can we!"

This time, Leah laughs so hard the camera shakes, and the sound recording crackles from the volume. "You-you….!"

Peter and most everyone else looks a little baffled by her response, with the exception of Bella, who looks a little sheepish as she finishes setting up the Battleship game.

"I don't get the funny in all of this!" Peter whines.

"I'm sorry! It's just -" Leah laughs again. "It's just you think that Bella doesn't cheat!"

In the background, Bella crosses her arms and pout. "I don't _cheat_. I just...know that the game is in my favor."

"Yeah, okay," Leah says. "Tell that to my eight-year-old self losing that card game because _someone_ used the reflection of my cards in the freaking _toaster_ to beat me."

Bella blushes to the roots of her hair. "It was one game! Let it go!"

Peter is gaping. "Did...did Bella cheat a _Go Fish_?"

"Bella cheated at _Go Fish_," Leah confirms gleefully. "Actually, I don't know which one of them is worse, Bella or Masen?"

"They deserve each other," Peter says darkly.

Bella puffs out her cheeks, even as Masen's face seems to _twitch_ into what _might_ be a smile, according to viewers who will argue about it in the comments later. "Can we just play Battleship?"

"In light of this cheating scandal," Emmett starts with raised brows. "I'm not sure you _or_ Masen should be allowed to play. Masen did just cheat at Risk and you, apparently, have a history."

Bella rears back in shock. "Seriously?"

"I think that's the way it is, babe," Leah calls from behind the camera.

"Unbelievable," Bella mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Sorry, Bella," Alice says apologetically, her tinkling voice heard somewhere just off-screen.

Bella sighs. "It's fine. Let's get on with the game, then."

And so the players start, this time Jasper playing against the seldom-seen K.O., who manages to play an incredibly vicious game even with Peter hanging off his back like a spider monkey. As the players change out, this time Peter playing against Alice, the camera zooms in on an inexplicable huddle in the corner of the room. Rose And Bella have their heads bent together, and although their faces can't be seen, Leah does manage to zoom in on what looks like a covert fist-bump.

"Interesting," Leah mutters behind the camera as Rose and Bella separate, each of them swanning around the room.

There is a low sound, another voice muttering _What are you talking about_, and then Leah can be heard, "Shh, I want to know what they're scheming."

And indeed, at least to viewers, there does seem to be some amount of scheming. Rose Hale has approached her boyfriend, Emmett, and is challenging him to a game of battleship, while Bella loiters over the current game. By now, most of the people in the video are visibly hazy and flushed from the beer, including Rose and Emmett, who settle down at the Battleship game and spend several minutes moving pieces around. Bella, meanwhile, casually circles the table. The view of the camera is wide enough that viewers can see the careful way Masen is watching her, and the way he subtly shifts to stand behind Rose even as Bella moves to stand behind Emmett.

And then the game starts, and by the third time Rose manages to make an inexplicably correct call - much to Emmett's drunken confusion - it becomes clear that Bella and Rose are somehow communicating. Leah is trying to stifle her laugher behind the camera, the video bouncing up and down as she shakes in amusement. Alistair, who must be still standing beside her, lets out a mystified, _Bloody hell_ that sends her off into loud titters.

"You sunk my Battleship!" Emmett cries out, scowling at his board. "Damn it!"

Bella bites her lip, keeping a straight face.

Rose takes a languid sip of beer. "You still have, what, three ships left? Don't be a baby."

"How are you so good at this all of the sudden?" Emmett demands. "The last time we played, you lost! By a lot!"

"Maybe it's the beer," Rose says.

"Or maybe Bella is throwing signs at you behind his back," Leah mutters, and the camera zooms in on Bella's hands, which make the shape of an L and then a 3. Rose calls out the correct places on the board and Emmett huffs, admitting that another one of his fleet has sunk.

Masen, who was watching all of this calmly, merely raises a brow at Bella, and Bella shrugs, apparently unapologetic as she helps Rose win the game.

"We're all cheaters," Leah says. "Or at least they are."

Alistair's voice is heavy with judgment, even faint as it is. "Every last one of them."

Later, the video will catch Bella and Masen talking about it, and Bella will say it was a "matter of feminine pride", her chin lifted in a challenge. The video will turn away in just enough time to catch the clear way Masen leans down into her space with obvious intent - and then the video will go dark.)

**View Comments**

Tennnnnnent  
I can't believe what I saw with my own two eyes! Who cheats over Battleship?

LuveMeDue  
You heard the woman, it was a matter of pride. Feminine pride.

V_VeryGood  
The fact that these wackos are actually cheating at children's boardgames is giving me life

J24U  
Okay but that was definitely a smile at 4:32, right? That was a smile! His face does move! Whoever owes me money, you can send it directly to my Venmo rn thanks

EdWinWinners  
This chaotic gang is better than therapy

* * *

**A/N: This is update 1 of 2 I have planned for this holiday weekend. And speaking of which - Happy Holidays, everyone! Hopefully, everyone is having a healthy, safe, and cautious holiday season. I know it's weird and it's hard, but we're all better off staying vigilant! It's my hope that we can all stay healthy as we start the new year. 2020 was like neverending whiplash - like, remember when Australia was on fire, or when last January we almost had a third world war? It's been nuts. But some good things have come out of the year, like Dolly Parton being the best person in the world and Miley Cyrus bringing 80s rock back into mainstream and K-Pop _finally_ becoming accessible and accepted to global audiences on a large scale. Other cool things that happened this year include critters who have survived wildfires, baby elephant booms, some truly great television, and the comforts we have found through social media and other online platforms, including this one.**

**At the risk of sounding like an optimist, I'm going to go ahead and say it: We got this far, so we can keep going. Keep looking for stars when it's dark, folks. There's always something to find joy or hope in. **

**Now, at the risk of sounding like a basic horoscope bitch (which I am - I'm a Taurus, an earth sign, my moon is in Virgo, and I'm Sagittarius ascending, and I'm damn proud of it), but maybe the Saturn-Jupiter thing will, like, reset the world? I'm just saying, the last time this happened was 800 years ago and it _genuinely_ seems like humanity has been, you know, going downhill kind of? With the exception of the internet? Maybe now things will be looking up? Who knows?**

**If you want to learn more about your horoscope (and why wouldn't you?) you can find your natal birth chart at CafeAstrology dot com. That's my Christmas gift to you, so you're welcome! **

**As always, be honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


	77. chapter 32

**[chapter 32]**

Paul is the one who picks them up from the airport, which is a surprise for a few reasons. For one thing, they were expecting Jake, and for another, Paul volunteers for exactly nothing ever. Leah, the bolder of the two of them and the one more eager to poke the proverbial viper's nest that is Paul Lahote's dazzling personality, wastes no time pointing this out, even as she clambers into the back seat.

Bella, who has a healthy caution about Paul's _aggressive _driving, shoots her a stink eye and settles into the passenger's seat.

Leah ignores her and leans forward. "So, why are we dealing with you?"

Paul swivels around to outright glare at Leah. "Because you fucking are," he snarls in explanation.

Leah blows a raspberry right in his face, and that vein in Paul's forehead starts to pulse.

Bella sighs, smiling faintly. The dynamic is familiar, even comforting. Leah is a strong personality, but whereas she can generally get along with most people _eventually,_ she and Paul have been like oil and water since they were kids. They're both way too temperamental. Bella loves them for it, somehow.

Behind them, cars honk to urge Paul out of the pickup zone. Paul turns to face forward, rolls down his window, and flips the cars off even as he pulls out of the lane. Bella's hands close carefully over the sides of the seat for the sake of comfort.

It isn't until they are safely on the highway that Bella's own curiosity nags at her. "So, really. Why are you here? Did Jake get stuck somewhere?"

"I volunteered," Paul mutters.

Bella casts him a doubtful side eye. "Okay…"

Paul has always been easy to read, mostly because every one of his emotions are on his sleeve. Granted, those emotions are usually irritation, annoyance, or arrogance, but all the same - easy to read. The fact that he shifts in his seat and makes an unnecessary lane switch is enough to tip both Bella and Leah off. The sisters exchange short glances, Leah pointedly raising her eyebrows.

Bella tries to figure out the best way to get Paul to spill. "So, did you have, like, business in Seattle? I thought you hated it here."

"I do hate it here," Paul grumbles. "This fucking city is a nightmare. Who builds that much shit on hills? And why are the streets so goddamn narrow? And none of the fucking exits make any sense and there's no place to park and the pedestrians! They just fucking walk out into the street. It's like they're asking to be hit!"

"But you didn't, right? You didn't hit anyone?" Bella asks, mildly alarmed.

Paul curls his lip. "No, but I should have. Fuckers."

_Well, at least there's that_, Bella thinks. Paul probably wouldn't actually hit a pedestrian if he could help it, but she also has her doubts about whether he would stick around if he did. Probably not, considering.

"You were actually _in_ Seattle? Not just SeaTac?" she clarifies

Paul looks like he's going to ignore her for a second, but then he says a terse, "Yes."

The car stays silent.

Leah gets impatient first. "Why?"

Paul's hands close more tightly on the steering wheel. It's funny to see him driving Jake's little car and is, admittedly, even funnier to see him trying not to damage it. She bets he misses his motorcycle, even if only because then he wouldn't be trapped in a car with questions he's being squirrelly about.

"I had to buy something," he says.

"Something Port Angeles didn't have?" Bella asks.

"Yes," he answers shortly.

Bella blinks, turning this over in her mind. "But Port Angeles carries everything," she says. It's true. As the largest city near Forks and La Push, the port town has seen a boom in the last several years. While the options may be a bit limited, almost everything can be found in Port Angeles. There shouldn't be any reason to go all the way to Seattle just to _buy_ something.

"They didn't have this," Paul hedges.

But Bella finds this question just as confusing. "What could Seattle have that PA doesn't?"

"Or that you couldn't order?" Leah interjects.

Bella nods. "That's a good point," she says. She stares at the side of Paul's face and the way he raps his fingers against the steering wheel. Her brows arc, recognizing these tells. "Or...is it that you didn't want whatever you bought to be seen?" she prods, narrowing her eyes as Paul swallows, his throat clicking.

A rush goes through her as all the clues add up into one obvious conclusion. Bella sits straighter, the seat belt digging into her shoulder, her eyes wide and bright. "Paul, did you buy a ring? Did you buy Jake a ring?" she asks excitedly.

"Shut up!" Paul says loudly, staring pointedly forward.

"Oh, my God!" Leah laughs. "He did!"

Bella grins ear to ear. "Paul! Congratulations!"

Paul's neck is red and he doesn't look at either of them. "Shut up, shut up! I haven't asked him yet," he says nervously.

"Wow, Paul, are you having an emotion that isn't anger?" Leah scoffs.

"Fuck you," Paul retorts.

"I just didn't know you were capable, " Leah continues.

Paul grits his teeth. "I will kill you, and then myself, if you don't shut up," he threatens.

Bella smiles even wider. Jake and Paul married is quite a concept, but it's one she's excited about. Ever since they were all kids, Jake and Paul have been at each other's throats, in one way or another - but their bickering is sweeter now, and they've been so _steady_. The fact that they're both out and the Res has accepted them is a huge help, she thinks. But she also thinks that they would have left if they had to, if that's what it took to stay together. That kind of commitment isn't something that can be seen everyday.

Bella is, in a word, ecstatic about the idea of two of her closest childhood friends being married. It's almost like a Christmas present just by itself because she doesn't doubt Jake will say yes. She's seen his Pinterest board lately, she knows where his head is. And Paul must be on the same page.

"Can we see the ring?" she asks.

"Glove compartment," he says gruffly. He keeps an eye on the road as she fishes it out, but when she opens the box to see the stunning gold ring, she senses she has his entire attention. The ring is inscribed with what she recognizes as traditional Quileute symbols, though she isn't sure on the meaning, and looks like exactly the sort of thing Jake would happily wear.

"Well?" Paul demands as Bella passes the ring box to Leah so she can get a good look.

Bella pats Paul's shoulder. "Hey, he's going to love it," she tells him confidently, her smile gentling as Paul loses some of his tension. "It's very Jake."

"Yeah, you know, as much as a ring can be a person," Leah agrees, awkwardly passing the ring box back to Bella.

"Leah," Bella sighs, putting the ring back in the safety of the glove box and pointedly overlooking the way Paul does a full-body twitch that looks like he is only _just barely_ restraining himself from reaching back and taking a swipe at Leah.

Her sister, for her part, snorts and finally leans back in her seat. "I know, I know. I'm awful," she says with a shameless grin. Then she kicks the back of Paul's seat. "But really, good on you Paul, for locking your man down, or whatever."

Paul sneers at her in the rearview mirror, but he doesn't make any other retort and that, more than anything, is proof enough that he's nervous. It's fun to watch, really, even if it does translate to some colorful cursing once they run into traffic about halfway back home. Paul always did have a way with words and more than a little road rage.

When Paul pulls the little car up to the Swan-Clearwater home, which is already decorated in natural pine garland and pinecones and holly berries, Bella feels a sense of relief, and not only because it means she can escape Paul's particular style of driving. Coming home is like a balm. Bella has known about the continual stress and the strain college and the internship has been putting on her, but she doesn't realize how much tension is sitting in her shoulders until she's standing in front of her home and breathing in the damp scent of evergreen that permeates the air. Belatedly, after dawdling for a good few moments to soak in the soothing atmosphere, Bella helps out with the bags, dares to give Paul a hug, and hooks her elbow around Leah's, waving as Paul drives off.

Bella rests her head on her sister's shoulder. "We're all growing up, aren't we?" she asks, not really expecting an answer. It's not like she really needs one, anyway. With Leah's recent success and Bella's own plans for the future solidifying a bit more every day, it's hard not to feel like a grown-up. Gosh, they really have gotten older in this past year, haven't they? And the future only stretches out, brighter and bigger and ready for the taking.

Leah scrunches her face. "Yeah, kind of. I mean, Jake and Paul, getting _married_?"

"You didn't think it would happen?"

"Neither of them strike me as the monogamous type."

Bella laughs in a bit of disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Are you?" Leah shoots back, incredulous.

Bella shakes her head. "I am. But I didn't think it would be so soon. Although," she adds on, thoughtful. "Jake wouldn't be Jake if he didn't plan something outrageous just for the sake of it. We might not see an actual wedding for years."

"Good," Leah mutters. "It's too weird to think about those two knuckleheads actually married."

At her sister's overdramatic shuddering, Bella pokes her between the ribs. "Just imagine if they want to adopt!"

"No!" Leah says, horrified. "That poor kid would have so many issues!"

"It could be cute," Bella wheedles. "Paul's sailor mouth with Jake's utter lack of filter."

"You're describing my actual nightmare," Leah says, very serious.

Bella fails at holding in her laughter. In fact, she's still laughing when she and Leah let themselves into the house, when Seth's little dog, Pistachio, decides to yip at them and circle their ankles, when Seth himself tumbles down the stairs and nearly tackles them into a hug. With the scent of something rich with cinnamon in the air and the warmth of the house, Bella closes her eyes and lets herself sink into the feeling of being home.

And if part of her is missing something at the moment - missing someone - then that's between her and her heart. But her mind can't help but think about it, what it might be like to bring Masen home too, what he might be like in this land of red buffalo plaid and the live Christmas tree shedding pine needles over the burlap tree skirt. She imagines it would be different from how he usually celebrates the holiday, given what she understands about his family.

She wonders if he would like this homely version, and hopes that he would - that he will, when the time comes. Because more than anything she wants to share with him Sue's turtle pecan cookies and the special cinnamon-nutmeg cocoa mix Leah insists on making by hand and the way Seth alternates between grilling them with questions and extolling on the virtues of the latest meme. She wants to share the roasted ham her dad will make later in the week and the way Sue will gather them in the living room to watch old the funniest Christmas movies and the way Leah and Seth will try to out-quote each other when they watch _National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation_. She wants Masen there for it all.

Bella smiles to herself, grounding herself in the moment as she unpacks her luggage, and thinks, _someday_. For now, however, she has much-needed laundry to do and presents to wrap and family bonding to do.

* * *

Masen  
Did you make it home okay?

Bella  
Totally fine  
_(Picture Attachment: A selfie of Bella holding _  
_a cup of hot chocolate up near her face,_  
_topped with whipped cream and chocolate _  
_syrup. Bella is smiling widely, a noticeable_  
_ mustache of cream of her upper lip.)_  
Leah's making her special blend and  
trying to pretend she isn't attached to her phone  
Seth is hoarding the cookies  
It's nice to be home  
Have you made it home yet?

Masen  
Tomorrow  
Had some things to wrap up

Bella  
You work too hard  
Go spend time with your family

Masen  
I will

Bella  
I miss you already  
It hasn't even been a day

Masen  
Only 206 hours until I see you again

Bella  
That's such a long time :(

Masen  
I know  
Next year will be different

Bella  
Are you inviting yourself to  
my Christmas break?

Masen  
Of course  
We'll spend half with your  
family and half with mine

Bella  
That sounds fair

Masen  
I thought so too

Bella  
Video chat later?

Masen  
I'll be up

Bella  
:)

* * *

"I don't want to be the one to say it," Carlisle mutters, voice low enough to not be heard even as Anne bustles around the Christmas tree. "But do you think Mom took her cue from Melania Trump with the decorations?"

Masen takes a critical look around. There is a lot of white and the overall aesthetic is cold, the embodiment of winter. "More like Narnia," Masen says, considering the room. There are notes of whimsy around, in true Anne Cullen fashion, and while it's a bit chillier than normal, the theme for this year is decidedly _not_ untouchable or sociopathic. "Nothing like the White House."

"If you say so," Carlisle says doubtfully.

Masen refrains from rolling his eyes.

"What are you boys talking about?" Anne asks with a smile, glass ornament in hand.

"Nothing," they answer together, each of them looking down at their phones.

Anne laughs.

Carlisle, noticing that he's doing the same thing as Masen, pointedly puts his phone face down on the coffee table and stands up. "Why don't I help you with this, Mom?"

Anne pats his cheek. "You're a good boy, Carlisle."

He colors in the cheeks. "Mom, I'm going to be thirty soon."

Anne pinches his cheek, and then for good measure pinches Masen's cheek too as she passes. Masen levels his brother with a droll look when their mother is gone from the room. "Such a good boy," he says dryly.

Carlisle makes a pained expression and huffs. "Get off your phone and help me."

Masen sighs. Bella is busy right now, anyway. He stands, circling the coffee table to help Carlisle unload the rest of the "keeper" ornaments that come out every Christmas Eve. Like a dutiful brother, he makes a point of putting Carlisle's childhood craft ornaments on the front of the tree in the most visible locations. Carlisle is aggrieved, of course, and tries to do the same to Masen, but Masen doesn't have nearly enough ornaments for Carlisle to retaliate.

"I swear to God," Carlisle mutters, digging through the ornament box. "Every year, it's like you have fewer ornaments. What do you do, smuggle them out?"

Masen stays silent. He moves a silver ball two inches up and to the left.

Carlisle gapes at him. "Are you _serious_?"

Masen holds his head high. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he says calmly. "But if, hypothetically, someone did something so extreme, I would think you would want to applaud the foresight."

"Oh, I'm going to applaud it, alright," Carlisle says darkly.

Masen smiles, unrepentant.

In Masen's memory, there are only a handful of Christmases when the Cullen brood stayed at home - once, when Grandmother Cullen passed, and a few others when Grandfather Cullen was out of the country on business. The last several years have been spent at the Cullen estate out of familial obligation. This year, it almost goes without saying that the Cullens are not going to the Cullen estate for _other_ reasons.

Nobody has talked about Grandfather Cullen, not even as a passing mention. It's a complete and total freeze-out that Masen honestly never would have predicted. He can't say that he minds it, however. Most holidays seem like pure capitalist propaganda to him, but if he had to choose a favorite, it might have been Christmas - so it's nice to spend it without the stress of visiting the Cullen estate. Strange, in a way, but nice nonetheless.

Thomas is the one cooking the Christmas meal this year and the four of them gather around the mid-sized kitchen table that is filled with roasted ham and fixings that are only slightly overcooked at first sight. It isn't the luxurious meal served by maids that they would have had at the Cullen estate, but Masen prefers this. It brings back memories of Thomas burning French toast on one side when Masen and Carlisle were kids, memories of Anne brewing up hot cider and knitting lopsided hats that flop over their ears in every Christmas card. It feels like home in a way home hasn't felt in so long.

Masen wishes Bella were here, too, because she feels like home, too. But that's for the future - half with her family, and half with his. Someday.

For now, Masen reconnects with his family and they all collectively move on from - or ignore - the elephant in the room. Masen assumes that they will continue to ignore said elephant, and he's perfectly content for this to be the case, but this only lasts until after dinner. Masen and Carlisle are working on putting away the leftovers and cleaning the kitchen up when Anne and Thomas metaphorically ambush them with what amounts to a massive apology.

"You kids have endured so much," Thomas says. "It's my fault. I felt that it was my duty as a son to watch after my father, but that doesn't excuse his behavior or the way I let him treat this family over these years. After your grandmother passed...He wasn't the same and I thought the grief would eventually pass. But it never did and unfortunately, he chose to take it out on you, Masen. I will never be able to make up for that, I don't think."

Masen dips his head in acknowledgment. He doesn't reply, though, because he isn't sure he's sorted his feelings about it out yet. Maybe one day he'll be able to reply, but that day isn't today.

"We should have put a stop to it a long time ago," Anne reasserts, placing her hand over her husband's, their wedding bands glinting. "Your Grandfather's toxic behavior has put such a strain on this family, and especially you boys. Carlisle, you did so much to keep the peace and almost ran yourself into the ground over it. And Masen, I don't think men your father's age would have tolerated such disrespect with such dignity. You have both made me - us - so proud, even when you shouldn't have had to."

"Mom…"

Anne shakes her head. "From now on, this family is going to act like one, like a _real_ family," she says firmly. "We're going to support and protect each other, even if that means we have to protect each other from other people in our family."

There is a somber silence after that, the weight of the moment weighing on them. Masen can clearly see that his parents are serious about this and it makes him feel like a kid again, just for a moment. Makes him feel like his parents really can protect him from the big world and the bad people. He isn't sure what to do with this young feeling or the vulnerability it brings, so he's grateful when Thomas breaks the quiet with a joke.

"Does this mean you won't make me eat your mother's fruitcake, dear?" he asks.

Carlisle laughs, and then tries to cough to cover it up when Anne turns to him with raised brows. Masen, on the other hand, doesn't bother to hide his smirk.

"My mother makes excellent fruitcake," Anne says with a frown.

"Of course she does, honey," Thomas says.

"Thomas Cullen, after thirty-five years of marriage, do you think I can't tell when you're lying?" Anne demands in disbelief. She shakes her head. "After all these years, _now_ you tell me that you don't like my mother's fruitcake?"

"Grandma bakes it from the heart," Carlisle says. "We didn't want to hurt her feelings."

"It's not bad if you pick the fruit out first," Masen adds.

Anne huffs at them, cracking a smile. "More for me, then," she declares, and promptly goes off to cut herself a generous slice.

Thomas waits until she leaves the room, off to set up a Christmas movie, before he snags a sugar cookie off the counter. "I've been eating that fruitcake for most of my adult life. But not this year. This truly is a good Christmas."

"Dad…"

Thomas winks and follows after his wife. Alone in the kitchen, Masen and Carlisle exchange silent looks and, as one, finish the task of cleaning up after dinner. There really isn't more to be said about any of it.

Except, of course, this:

"You seriously pick the fruit out?"

Masen stares at his brother. "What do you do?"

"I just...eat it."

"Why?"

Carlisle is baffled. "What else would I do?"

"Pick the fruit out."

Carlisle opens his mouth, then closes it. "I...Didn't think of that. Why didn't I think of that?" he asks, sounding pained.

Masen shrugs his shoulders, smirk curling around his lips. He gets adequate payback for his smugness later when Carlisle lobs a snowball at the back of his head the next morning. Magnanimously, he allows his brother to enjoy that small victory - and then he absolutely clobbers him.

It's the best Christmas in recent memory. The only thing that would have made it better would be Bella by his side.

_Someday_.

* * *

**The Gang (Group Chat)**

Peter  
MERRY CHRISTMAS FUCKERS  
And also ladies

Bella  
Happy Holidays!

Masen  
(Read at 12:33 PM)

Emmett  
Wow he does leave you on read  
I would never do that to Rosie

Rose  
Call me Rosie again

Emmett  
Shit I forgot you were here

Rose  
Excuse me?

Peter  
Well, as nice as it is to see Emmett  
get murdered, let's talk about something else  
Like our presents

Leah  
Are we five?  
We're not going to compare presents

Peter  
You're just afraid I'm going to have the better one  
Don't worry, I'll play fair  
I won't even count what Garrett gave me

Leah  
I don't want or need to know about it

Alice  
What did he get you?  
Jazzy got me a lovely membership  
to a wholesale fabric company

Rose  
Fabric  
That's so romantic

Leah  
I feel like that's basically a gift card

Bella  
I think it's thoughtful

Alistair  
Who added me to this  
And why

Leah  
Peter is to blame

Alistair  
Isn't he always

Peter  
WOW  
In my own house  
The disrespect is unbelievable

Emmett  
My parents got me cookware  
How do I tell them that I don't cook?

Rose  
You don't

Bella  
Lol  
We're the same  
Dad got me a waterproof laptop case  
And then he got Leah a  
waterproof camera case  
I think he thinks it rains more in  
Cali than it does in Forks?

Leah  
Dad is always very practical  
But at least his gifts are useful  
Unlike what Seth got me

Peter  
What did he give you?

Bella  
Don't ask

Leah  
Man, I don't even know what it is  
I think he just bought something  
from WISH because it's cheap  
And because he's a budding troll

Bella  
It's definitely a gag gift

Rose  
I would ask to see it  
But...I really don't care

Alice  
I care  
I want to see it!

Leah  
A picture really doesn't do it justice  
I'll show you later

Bella  
You're really bringing that  
whatever it is back with us?

Leah  
Seeing your horrified expression,  
I am now obligated to do so

Peter  
I think I know where your  
brother learned to be a troll

Alice  
Lol

Emmett  
Some things run in the family!  
Some people run from their families!  
That's life!

Peter  
Why are you so chipper?

Emmett  
Nana's eggnog packs a hell of a punch

Rose  
Well, isn't that delightful  
Share the recipe

Emmett  
I'll go ask Nana!

Alistair  
You Americans exhaust me  
I'm going back to sleep  
Happy Christmas

Leah  
And there he goes  
I'll bug him later  
What time is it in England?

Bella  
It's Let Him Sleep o'clock

Leah  
Boo

Alice  
Speaking of grandmothers,  
Granny is wanting me in the kitchen  
We're making peanut brittle

Bella  
Bring some back please!

Alice  
Don't worry! I'm making a  
batch just for you  
And also one for Jazzy :)  
Merry Christmas again everyone!

Peter  
Right okay  
So  
Who is Jazzy?

Leah  
Alice's boyfriend

Peter  
Have I met him?

Bella  
At least twice, Peter

Peter  
Are you sure?  
I don't remember a Jazzy

Leah  
His actual name is Jasper  
Blond, bespeckled

Emmett  
That nerdy dude!

Rose  
Any one of you calling someone  
else a nerd is hilarious

Emmett  
I'm not a nerd!

Rose  
Of course not

Peter  
Oh that guy!  
I don't have his number  
I should add him to the chat

Leah  
Ugh must we?

Bella  
Be nice  
He's been good  
And it would make Alice happy

Leah  
Gross  
FIne

Peter  
Great!  
The more the merrier!  
Get it?  
Like MERRY Christmas?

Bella  
Lol  
And on that note  
Talk to everyone later!

Leah  
You guys can't see this but I can  
Bella deadass just bolted off the  
couch for some cookies  
She jumped over our brother and his dog

Peter  
What a mood

Rose  
Classic Bella

Emmett  
Cookies go good with eggnog, right?

* * *

The day after Christmas finds Bella and Leah trotting off to La Push to spend some time with the boys. They all gather in Jake's little detached garage, which has gone through so many renovations over the years - first as an ill-fated attempt at a rock band, then as an actual mechanic's garage, and now at what is more or less a den of sorts. Bella doesn't think much has changed about the space since the summer, with the exception of a comfy new couch that has been dragged against the back wall, which she gladly sits in. It's definitely an upgrade to the tatty tartan monstrosity that had been occupying the space since they were all kids.

Bella's attention is torn between watching Jared, Quill, and Jake play an increasingly spirited game of Blind Man's Bluff, and with texting Masen, who seems to be enduring hanging out with Peter, Garrett, and Liam, who have all inexplicably decided to gather at Midnight Sun the day after Christmas. Liam had apparently woken him from a well-deserved nap by bickering loudly with Peter, and Masen has resigned himself to withstanding their presence since it doesn't seem like any of them will be leaving the building any time soon. Bella tries not to giggle too much about it, but she can imagine it all so clearly - and Masen is so clearly annoyed, in a way that he isn't usually, that she can't help but find the humor in it.

"Ugh, are you going to live on your phone for the entire break?" Leah groans, collapsing on the couch beside her and pillowing her head in Bella's lap.

Bella merely lifts her arms higher to make room for her sister and rolls her eyes, even as she keeps a steady eye on the ellipses forming as Masen writes his reply. "Yes, I am," she says simply.

"Disgusting, but somehow cute," Leah decides. She waves her hand imperiously. "Carry on."

Bella replies to Masen's next text, a smile playing on her lips. And then she looks down to see Leah fiddling with her own phone. "And who are you texting?" she prods pointedly. "Alistair?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Leah hedges, dropping her phone onto her chest. She fixes her face into a scowl and looks up at Bella. "Why are you acting like you're forgiven for your utter betrayal?"

Bella lifts her brows. "Uh, I think we're pretty even on the betrayal score."

"How so?" Leah challenges.

Bella shakes her head. "You're unbelievable, you know? All I do is mention, in passing, that you're thinking about getting an MFA, and you turn around and blurt out that I'm, and I quote, _seriously dating with the intention of marriage_ in the middle of our Christmas dinner," Bella says with growing dismay. She pokes Leah in the center of her forehead. "And what's with that phrasing, anyway? Why'd you have to say it like that? Are you a pod person from the 50s?"

Leah slaps her hand away, rubbing at her forehead. "Is that not what you're doing?"

"You know it is, but you didn't have to say it like that!" Bella huffs at her. "Actually, you didn't have to say it at all. Did you see Dad's face?"

Leah bites back a smile. "Before or after Mom sprayed her wine all over the table?"

"You always drop information at the worst times," Bella mutters. Leah really had fired back her retaliation right when Sue was taking a drink and their entire Christmas dinner was tinged with the flavor of a fruity red wine because of it.

Leah doesn't look too bothered. "Oh, whatever. It was going to come out eventually."

"Yes, it was," Bella agrees, more than a little aggrieved. "I was going to tell them myself and in private. But you went and made it sound like I was engaged."

Leah grabs her wrist, pulls back the sleeve of her sweater, and shows Bella her own wrist. "What do you call this then?"

Bella blushes to the roots of her hair. Her revenge comes in the form of tickling Leah so much that she falls off the couch, and because of the company they keep, this inevitably leads them all chasing each other around outside, a bunch of newly 20s playing tag like children. It is, all things considered, not a bad way to spend time with the La Push boys, who have been just as competitive and warm-hearted since childhood. It's enough of a distraction that Bella can almost forget about the way her dad had cornered her after dinner last night and made a few gruff comments about _being safe_ and how he would like to _meet this young man of hers_, all while Sue struggled not to laugh in the background.

Later, when they've all been tired out by the chase, they end up spread around Jake's side yard, which stretches out into a copse of trees that trundles down to the pebbly beach, the grey waters lapping at the shore. Bella ends up next to Jake on a driftwood log, Jake huffing into his hands to keep his fingers warm. Bella snuggles closer, pillowing her head on his shoulder, and takes a moment to wonder at how they've all grown. It seems like it wasn't so long ago that the boys were shooting up into gangly bean sprouts or that they were all spending hot summers cooling in the shade with popsicles sticky on their faces. Looking at their close-knit group now, it's hard to believe that they're all adults finding their feet in the world.

"What're you thinking about?" Jake asks after a while.

Bella smiles. "Old times. Good times, mostly."

"They were," he agrees. He nudges her. "You look happy."

Bella's smile grows. Her phone pings in her pocket, surely another message from Masen. "I am happy," she says, and follows Jake's eyes as they trace back to Paul, who has for some reason pulled Jared into a headlock. "You look happy, too. With Paul, I mean."

"Paul is a barnacle and I'm never going to get rid of him," Jake declares, sounding hopelessly fond in spite of himself.

Bella thinks about that ring that Paul bought, about the question that Jake will be asked someday soon, and says, "Yeah, but you don't want to."

Jake grins that sun-bright smile of his and shrugs.

_This is what it's supposed to be like_, she thinks, reflecting on the year and her life and where she wants her future to look like. It's not a bad future. In fact, it looks bright and promising, full of love and cheer and lifelong friendships. The future will be so good, and someday she will share her future with someone else - or at least, she hopes to.

Someday.

* * *

Swanning **ʘswanning_twitch**  
Happy Holidays, folks! I'm taking a short poll for DOW dungeons you want tutorials on! Which one do you want me and my little brother to beat?

Darlene **ʘdeardirt**  
Yesssss, I am HERE for the family bonding. Also, please run the Jade Peach dungeon.

Queso Forever **ʘq_ed**  
The Jade Peach quest? Seriously? Ghost Fox is way harder

Darlene **ʘdeardirt**  
You have no vision ʘq_ed I'm obviously aiming for the sibling dynamic with the Jade Peach quest. It would be hilarious!

Queso Forever **ʘq_ed**  
…..I'll give you that. Let's see it roll.

* * *

**A/N: Update 2 of 2. Uh, the next update will happen after the New Year, probably in the second week of January? Stay tuned.**

**Now for notes! Okay, so I actually spent quite a bit of time trying to find what the traditional Quileute winter celebrations would look like, since Christmas is very much not a traditional Indian celebration. To my great sadness, I wasn't able to find _any_ records about any traditions that might have carried over - it seems like since at least 1901, which is the one record I was able to find that mentioned _anything_ about traditional celebrations, even obliquely, the Quileute Tribe has adhered to White winter celebrations. This was done, according to the article, to assimilate with the White populace without conflict, which is unfortunately something many native peoples have done to simply survive. The Quileute people have as a whole done a lot to assimilate to the influx of White people, to the point where some of the cultural traditions celebrated by the older generations were already regarded as "entertainment" to the younger generation as early as 1901 - which is, as I said, just incredibly sad. It's distressing to learn about this loss of culture, but it's also not something to shy away from. According to The Talking Raven, which is the Quileute Tribe's current publication, they do something called a Community Christmas Celebration, which mostly consists of a silent auction geared toward children and education. The reference I found for the lost traditional celebration was at Seattle Civil Rights and Labor History Project in a record titled "Quileute Independent and Quileute Chieftain" (1908-1910) by Heather McKimmie. The point of this is to say that I _had_ planned a section of this chapter to go over traditional Quileute holiday celebrations, but I had to take it out of the outline since….well, since colonialism, tbh.**

Anyway! As always, be honest. I can take it! Stay safe and stay healthy - and stay positive. A new year is a new opportunity! We're getting through it a day at a time, and that's perfectly fine! Make sure to keep an eye out on your local government plans for vaccine roll-outs, learn about whether your insurance is going to cover vaccinations, and stay stocked up on your masks and hand sanitizer!

~Rae


End file.
